


Fluorescent lights

by Costumebleh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Clubbing, Dancing, Fluff, I have no idea where this will be going, Other, Slow Build, or more like the robot really wants to date you, you get to date the robot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:24:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 28,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Costumebleh/pseuds/Costumebleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As you feel the beat go through your body while dancing at the club, you suddenly find you standing -well dancing, face to face with the eccentric superstar Mettaton. Your clubbing, as well as your general life is suddenly changing as somebody you never even dreamed of talking to continues to show up where you expect him the least. Ohhh boy.</p><p>- Dropped, if anyone wants to give it a go instead -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sparks flying

**Author's Note:**

> Ass: This is going to be the hardest project yet for me since I'll be trying to spit out a chapter each day, haha this I do want to progress this story as fast as I can manage while Heat in the making is getting Beta'ed by Alice. I just seem to have a bad habit of not being able to keep quiet for long, but me spitting this out this quick will result in spelling-mistakes and messing about with the tense used in the story and I hope you guys will look past it (/=w=)/  
> Anyways hope you guys are ready for some hardcore fluff! Enjoy!!!!

You dance fluidly across the dancefloor, your mind becoming one with the music as your body instinctually follow the beat in a dance that you’ve practiced until it’s practically settled in your bones. Your thoughts are becoming an incoherent mix of interpretations, as the alcohol fuzzes over your senses. You barely sense the many bodies surrounding you in the club, everything in you screaming insistently on you continuing this ecstasy-driven battle on the dancefloor.

You love dancing. That is a fact that you’ve stressed to people on so many occasions when you’ve ditched your companions at the bar to break your usually calm persona in the multicolored lighting. The DJ becoming the director of your body, allowing you to leave all normalcy as you join the monster shaped by unknown amounts of swaying bodies. All clubs you’ve ever been in is heaven, preaching a freedom that is unrivalled by any other physical activities. You enjoy the anonymity of it all, permitting you to dance and act any way you want and making the faces of your multitude of dance partners become a blur in your endorphin-slurred memory.

As the night wears on, you go back and forth between the bar as you need to refresh the sensation that makes your reasonability weaken and keeps your body hydrated as not to pass out on the middle of the floor. Did that one time, don’t want to do it again. When your throat is finally burning with a something different than thirst, you join the fray of bodies again. The music leading you, like commands on how to move are built into your nerve circuit as the beat envelops your body once more. You hair is sticking to your face, sweat running down your body as time becomes invalid, only the next song starting to play allowing you to keep a vague sense of the passing hours.

When something pink flashes in front of your eyes, you slow down for a second to give a quick lookover at your newest partner on the dancefloor. Darks and pinks matched in the most fashionable way, giving no border between what looks feminine and masculine, he’s beautiful.

Despite being about a head taller with long limbs, his moves are fluid in a way that leaves you enraptured. It’s the face that you’ve seen a multitude of times on the television screen. Mettaton. The multitalented superstar is actually standing, well dancing, right in front of you.

While your mind is turning into mush at the revelation, your body continues to follow the ghostly conductor that directs your every move. His movements match yours and the two of you are soon following the same beat, as your eyes meet. His pink burn into yours, sending a shiver down your spine at the electrifying intensity in his stare. When the next song rolls around and he’s not exchanging partners, staying by you and still following your movements with those expressive eyes, you can’t help but smile, this all seemed overworldly.

Song after song plays, becoming background noise as he still sticks by your side, only permitting you to mingle with others for as long as a single soundtrack before he’s in front of you again.

A one point, the DJ puts on a different mix. It’s slower than before, probably meant for breaking up the pace a bit so that people can mingle and cool down a bit. Well mostly mingling and mixing, as you spot multiple people suddenly dancing slow and close with whoever they’d been partnered with. Like on cue, you feel a strong pair of hands land on your hips, pulling you close to the robotic actor. You almost collide your nose to his chest before catching yourself, you’re looking up at him, surprised.

Oh god, he’s shooting you the sweetest smile. You can practically feel your legs tremble from his eyes on you and the long time you’ve been dancing, how long have you been out here? Your body sure seems happy for the change in tempo, only lightly rocking from side to side instead of the extreme stress from your usual wild dancing. You hesitantly wrap your arms around his neck and he shoots you another one of those angelic smiles, making you glad that you’d worked up the courage. It’s funny, when you’re not breaking your body down on the dancefloor, you turn back into that unbelievably hesitant and quiet personality. This was close enough to getting off the dancefloor for you to divert your gaze from his face, instead watching the crowd to your side. You can feel his hands press against your hip,

A strong shiver runs down your spine as Mettaton leans down to whisper gently in your ear, despite him not really needing lungs your hearing catch onto the slight whirring of fans that tells you that it wasn’t just you that was out of breath. A slight blow of air caresses your earlobe and makes you stiffen at the sensation, oh lord.

“Absolutely _wonderful_ , Darling.” His deep voice punctuates each word, making your body obey even less than before. You couldn’t determine if it was comfortable or not, perhaps slightly pressing against your boundaries for how close you permit people to stick to you. But fearing that refusing or pushing him away might equal to offending the star, you just stay still.

Though just a heartbeat after his muttered approval, he releases you to turn around and walk off, disappearing into the crowd with a final wink directed your way. Leaving you to dumbfoundedly stand with your hands pressed onto each side of your face, furiously blushing and not even listening to the upbeat song the DJ had switched to a little while ago. In the midst of the moving sea of bodies, you can’t even force a single muscle to listen to your silent plea for an escape.

Oh.

Oh my gosh.

You just danced with a guy that all thought of as an unreachable idol, as both a monster and superstar he made this scenario seem as unlikely to happen as if you became an idol yourself. EEEE. You permitted yourself to scream in your head as it isn’t appropriate out loud right now, ah, you think that didn’t quite measure up to it. EEEEEEEE. Better.

Your legs finally decide to listen to you and you’re moving through the mass of dancing shapes, walking up to the bar and almost falling down onto the barstool. You shoot a quick order to the bartender standing there and then proceeds to hide your tomato-red complexion in the palm of your hands. You’re almost steaming as you recall the feeling of his hands on your hips, the fluorescent lights reflecting in his shining eyes, making it seem like he was still performing on stage, captured in the same projectable lights as always. Except that he hadn’t been, he’d just been in this plain club. The scruffy dancefloor his scene, with you as the audience.

It hurts when you slap yourself to snap out of your dumb case of starstruckness. Your cheeks now burn with both pain and embarrassment, the concerned bartender finally places your drink in front of you with a raised eyebrow. You grasp onto the strong cocktail, downing half of it in one go as to try and forcibly drink away your sudden infuriation with a certain robot. It somewhat succeeds, it certainly hits you hard enough that you can feel the room spin a little. Taking a more controlled sip of your drink, you catch yourself wondering if you’d see him again if you returned next week.

You decide that the previous sip that you took would be the last, as you sit and work up the wills to walk yourself back home without stumbling. The embarrassment and alcohol making your balance uncertain as your mind keeps circling back to a certain individual. Oh dang it, you’ll try and see again next week.  


	2. To tell if the beat feels right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're hopeful that you won't mess up, drinking doesn't seem like the wisest choice but you'll take what you can get.

True to your word, you’ve returned again the following Friday. Both eagerly- and not, hoping that you might get another close look at the mechanical star, okay maybe you are a bit hopeful but hey, wouldn't anybody be? It's crowded again, the loud music beating heavily through the particles of the air. But this time you can't muster enough will to actually go back out onto the dancefloor, feeling like you're on pins and needles just by standing near the entrance.

You don't find that the feeling is uncomfortable, you just didn't think through as to what you will do if you actually do run across him again. You're just nervous, not knowing if you dancing with him was just a fluke and that you might never see him again.

Welp, no time like the present.

You stubbornly force your shaking legs to move and bring you over to the bar. You feel less out of place there, with the somewhat known faces of the other regulars, plus the very familiar face of the bartender. He gives you a slightly odd look, probably since you weren't on the dancefloor yet, but still takes your order and within a few moments places your cocktail in front of you.

Though you can sense the familiar pull of the music, you don't feel like resigning to it. With this mix of hope and anticipation running through your veins, it makes your movements uncertain and you will surely stumble if you tried to stand up now. So even if you want to go dance you can't, since you hate those clods that can't figure out left from right and dump into others constantly when dancing and if you went out there, you would be just like them. So you just sit here drinking and stare grumpily out at the dancers. It's kind of pathetic, but hey, you already know that you're about as pathetic as they come. Just taking another long sip of your drink while encouraging yourself to actually do something other than wallow in self-pity really doesn't make matters better. But allows your mind to cloud over just a bit from the alcohol. 

Now you've been sitting there for what, an hour? And no sign of the popular idol. How stupid was it that you'd think that he would come back, just to dance with you again. You can't even come up with a valid excuse as to why you'd thought that he will be here. It was just a feeling, one that still rests in the back of your mind after those words. It was only three words of praise, three! And you still hung onto them in a desperate hope that he would just maybe show up with his dazzling aura and drag you into another exotic dream on the dancefloor.

You feel increasingly silly as you continue shooting envious glances towards the fluorescent lights, really wanting to join the fray and just dance without a care in the world. You think that it was the fourth drink you’d been downing in the past fifty minutes, and you know that usually two would be enough to catapult you out there with no trouble at all. Tilting to the ceiling again, you finish another one. When you stare at the bartender while deciding if you should try and make tonight a drunken one, you sense somebody pass by behind you to come and sit on the barstool beside yours.

You inwardly sigh at the uncomfortable feeling of having your personal space invaded, but whoever they were certainly weren’t responsible for the overcrowded bar and perhaps only wanted to sit and rest their sore limbs after dancing. You stare silently ahead of you for a few more moments, before you hear the somewhat familiar sound of fans whirring a bit to your side. Stiffening slightly, you slowly turn your head to the person who’d sat down right beside you a few minutes prior.

Holy shit, do dreams come true?

Mettaton is sitting on the barstool as if it is the coziest of furniture and not the buttocksbreaking cheap stuff you know it is, leaning forward with his elbows propped up on the counter. You are pretty sure that you’re not the only one staring as he orders something from the stunned bartender, you mean he is a multitalented superstar and his shows were on like all the time. As soon as he finishes his order, he turns over to shoot you a glance and you swear that you can see a bit of smugness in it since he was able to sneak up on you like this.

You try to swallow, only to find that your mouth was dry as a desert since everyone was shooting glances in Mettaton’s direction, which meant your direction as well. Your attention is abruptly drawn away from that fashionable creature that people dared call mortal, by the bartender placing another drink in front of you. Raising your gaze from the drink, you shoot a very surprised look at the bartender. He just shrugs in reply, flickering his eyes towards your, ahem, companion.

Ah, so that was what the star had ordered. Looking back down on the drink, you see that it’s a Margarita. You never really drank this, well you did but then it was the homemade ones where you have the salt on the curve of your palm and the lemons freshly cut on the cuttingboard while your friends were challenging you to down another. These fancy ones were usually a little out of what you liked to spend on so little, even with the practical salt border on the rim of the glass that saved you from spilling salt on the floor. It feels like it have been ages since you made any of these.

When you look back up at the superstar, you see that he’s also sitting with one. Raising it a small cheer you can’t help but mimic, you can feel your face burn as he takes a sip and licks his lips. How did he manage to look so graceful while doing anything as ordinary as drinking, you don’t dare question. As he expectantly look over at you, you take a small sip of the drink to be careful of that it might be a bit strong and recalling the four previous drinks. Now you certainly could not follow your previous plan of drinking yourself silly. With his eyes resting on you, undoubtedly noticing your uncertain complexion.

The bitterness mixed with the salty texture certainly refreshes your slightly clouded mind, and you have to school yourself so that you don’t end up grimacing. That would not seem appealing to any of the patrons of the bar, and you especially didn’t want to give a meek impression to the star. When you look back up again, you are met with the feral gaze in those pink irises. Is it just you or are they a different color than last time? More purple-ish, that matches fashionably with the clothes the robot is wearing, you figure that it is intentional for the aesthetic look it gives him.

When he rises and speaks, you snap away your eyes from his form. Oh boy you have probably been staring quite obviously. Blaming the alcohol, you focus on his melodic voice.

“I say Darling, you seemed so unhappy over here by yourself.” He’s winking at you and you cannot phantom that this is actually happening as you give an awkward cough. That apparently gives him the confirmation he needs. “Would escorting you to the dancefloor perhaps help with that?”

Gulping back your nervousness, you rise from the stool to only find yourself stumble slightly. A firm but gentle hand grasps onto yours, keeping you balanced and you can hear a small laugh in his voice.

“I see that my timing might not have been the best, I’m sorry that you had to sit and wait.” At the end, you actually heard some remorse sneak into his tone, and you straighten up to give him a reassuring smile.

“No it was my fault for drinking this much.”

“I do wonder what made you skip out on the dancing this time around, you seem to enjoy it Darling.” There it is again, that small laugh hidden within his words.

You’re not sure how to take this, and not just the hand that was held out for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I'm still not sure what I'm doing


	3. Dancing to your heatbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like lady luck isn't really on your side.

In any case, you decide that leaving Mettaton hanging would be unwise and grasp onto the outstretched hand. As you do, you’re immediately dragged away from the bar and the many shocked patrons whose eyes undoubtedly follow the two of you, disappearing from sight into the mass of people. His hand is oddly warm, and you can feel the softness of his palm against yours as he continue guiding you through the labyrinth made of bodies.   

Uncertainty blooms in your mind as the two of you stop in an available free space, your hand is still intertwined with his and you stare slightly frightened at the superstar, afraid of disappointing him. Perhaps he sees this in your eyes, because he smiles, less cockily than before and suddenly you can feel the room spin as he makes you twirl. It surprises you, and suddenly you’re losing your balance as you come to a standstill, honestly you were already plenty dizzy from the drinks.

His hand is the thing that keeps you from not falling on your face, reassuringly squeezing yours once before he finally releases you. He’s still smiling as he gestures for you to start dancing. Honestly, you don’t know how you can resist even if your steps are uncertain as the deep beat of the music urges you on.

Oh have you missed this.

You feel more at peace dancing; it’s easier for you to express yourself than speaking and makes a happiness bloom slowly in your chest. When Mettaton sees you smiling, he cannot resist doing the same since you looked so much more at peace here than sitting lonely at the bar. Of course you don’t see his expression much besides from small flashes, since both of your were moving rhythmically back and forth through your dance moves. Improvising on the dancefloor was one of your strong points, mixing hip hop, disco and a bunch of other unspecified dance-types that allowed you to follow the stream of music without pause or hesitation.

It’s fun again, and the uncertainty and uncomfortableness from earlier vaporizes from your mind as minutes and songs pass and you’re grinning as the superstar once again is sticking by your side at all times.  He’s almost possessively staying near you, making you question why he’s acting like this with you of all the people in the room. It’s weird, your buzzed mind thinks. You’re not sure what makes him act like this, but you don’t seem to mind as you spin around yourself again and find yourself a lot closer to the star than you anticipated.

You’re almost pressed against his chest, hearing the whirring of his fans again by your ear as you redirect your gaze from his face. It’s easier to smoothly move away if you’re not making eye contact with him, you feared that it would offend him that you almost shot away from the close contact. However, when you only hear a small laugh reach your ears you raise your gaze to see small stars sparkle in his eyes while he amusedly watches you. You’re not sure how to take it all and just decide to close your eyes while swaying to the beat, but you still flush as you can feel his eyes on you.

Actually, you can feel most of your body burning with the harsh treatment you’ve been exposing it to, begging for rest. You decide to oblige it, as it gives you an excuse to sit and cool down and maybe getting another chance at chatting with the robot. Ah shite, maybe you should just bash your head into a wall and get it over with. Like he would be interested in actually sitting down and chatting with you for unknown amount of time, when he’s like on twenty different TV-shows currently airing.

You hadn’t noticed that you’d stopped dancing, but considering your exhaustion and inner debate, it wasn’t surprising that your poor abused body put itself in energy-saving mode by standing still. When you finally notice, you can feel a slight quiver in your legs and Mettaton curiously eyeing you. You shoot him a apologetic smile and try to speak over the loud music, telling him that you were “Just a bit tired”. Before you can register it, he’s dragged off with you again, this time over to the more comfortable couches that occupied one of the corners of the room. You knew those couches, sitting on them was a hard enough battle that you’d never really bothered to try it.

However, it apparently only takes a small request from the star and suddenly you’re squished in between him and one of the armrests. You can see that people are flocking over, trying to get a look at the suddenly visible robot. You realize that there’s an almost uncomfortable amount of attention directed your way, though you try your hardest not to let it bother you and instead look at the robot from the corner of your eye. Not wanting to be actually caught staring as he converses with literally every person that even came a meter within his radius. Some seemed to try and drag him back onto the dancefloor, or ask if he wanted to come to the VIP section of the club. A place you knew was mostly made for people to hide in while making out with their partners. To your surprise, he dismissed each and every single proposal with a smile and wink, still not straying from your side.

When you’re left with staring absently into the room, listening to the star chat wasn’t that interesting when the conversations start seeming to repeat themselves. You’re instantly snapped out of zoning out everyone around you when somebody actually has the audacity to dump right down on the armrest right beside you, in a attempt at getting closer to the star. Definitely way to close for your comfort.

They’re practically slipping down, forcing you to move further away in your already small space to avoid the drunken idiot tumbling down into your lap. It’s a woman who’s had way too much for tonight, not even paying you any attention as she reaches over to stroke Mettaton’s hair, excusing herself that he had a stray lock. When she retracts her arm, you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or her doing it on purpose, but her elbow hammers down into your face. The bridge of your poor nose gets the worst of it and a sizzle of anger and pain starts to form behind your eyelids, you can feel tears press insistently at the corner of your eyes.

That’s it.

With your temper already cut short from the insistent press of people forcing themselves into your personal space, now this malicious woman was venting out her jealousy on you out of the pure spite. Just because you were sitting beside him.

You lean over to Mettaton, muttering a quick “Sorry” before quickly rising and striding towards the exit. Today had been too much, you couldn’t handle the attention, and spiteful looks anymore. You think that you can hear Mettaton calling for you, but you stubbornly keep your eyes fixated on the promising door that would allow you access to fresh air and freedom from the pressure that had suddenly started weighing down on your shoulders.

Though right before you reach the doors, a mechanical hand grasps one of your wrists, halting you. You turn around to face the star. Sensing the jealous looks shot your way and immediately wishing that he would just let go of you so that you could vent out your frustrations in a less public place. Some of it dampens however when you see the regret in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Darling, didn’t pay you enough attention back there. Is your nose alright?”

You mumble something affirmative and just earn a shake of his head. “Let’s go outside to take a look at that Hun, it looks really painful.”

Before you can deny his request, he’s already dragging you with him outside. The cooler air immediately helps you relax, further decreasing the croak that was starting to build up in your throat from the frustrations and pain. Letting out a relieved sigh, you let Mettaton guide you into a crook of an alleyway that allowed the two of you to stay hidden, as not to attract any further attention. However, as he stands before you, bending down to analyze the redness of your nose. You can’t help but yelp as he’s almost all you can see in front of you, pain momentarily forgotten, you wish that he would just step back a little as you can feel yourself heat up despite the coolness of the air.

Help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm getting somewhere. (~=w=)~


	4. Magic lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe your expectations for the superstar were a bit too high, he certainly seem a bit more self-centered than you'd thought.

Your panicky train of thought is –somewhat luckily cut off, when Mettaton accidentally presses his fingers a bit too hard against the sore area. You flinch and turn your head away as pins of pain dig into your poor head.

“Ah, so sorry Darling. Was that the spot?” you just grumble something under your breath as a reply while you cup your poor head. Your nose was a lot more sore than you’d thought, the bone undoubtedly bruised by the force of that damned elbow.

When you pry open your eyes again, you see him stand a little further away. His hands are on his hips while he bites his lower lip, it seems like he’s thinking hard about something. He starts moving again as he snaps his gaze back to you, it seems a bit more intense than before. You can’t help but flinch a little. Nevertheless, when you try to look away, his hand grasps your chin, keeping you still as he’s still looking at you.

Are his eyes glowing a little?

Before you can comprehend what is happening, he’s leaned forward to gently press his lips onto the bridge of your nose. You gasp, but can’t pull back as his hands are cradling your head, keeping you still. You were almost going to try and push him away when you felt something tingle on your skin. It spread out from his lips, soothing the pain and making the soreness ease up. The rest of the effects made you relaxed and left your mind slightly fuzzy. Ah, it must be magic.

When Mettaton leans back, the palm of his hands are still pressed against your cheeks as he surveys his handiwork. Seemingly satisfied, he smiles and let go of your face. Congratulating himself with a small; “There, perfect.”

When you then brought your hand to your face, gently pressing against the bridge of your nose, you felt no twinge of pain or swelling. It was healed. What.

Well mark that as another amazing thing concerning the superstar.

As you are still just staring astonishingly at him, his smile widens further. “Well Darling, I couldn’t have you hurt because of me. That would be very ungentlemannery.”

Finally gaining enough composure to speak, you finally manage to speak. “Th-Thank you…” Oh god how awkward, maybe you should try to keep the conversation going so that he wouldn’t leave just yet.

Fiddling with your fingers, you try to pick up the conversation again. “Actually, shouldn’t you go back to them? They’re your fans and because of me you had to leave them.” Wrong topic brain. WRONG TOPIC.

He laughs a little, like your question amused him. “Oh, Darling. Letting you leave would be a greater offense than leaving them, especially since they forced you out.” He had noticed the treatment you’d been receiving back there? Then why didn’t he try to stop them.

You can feel a small portion of the anger resurface, pursing your lips you shoot him a look. “But why?”

A sigh comes from those soft lips. Why the hell did he suddenly make it seem like he had been the offended party in there all of a sudden. “I simply cannot risk losing fans dearie, leaving them on an empty note is a big enough risk for them to start disliking me.”

Oh you’ve got to be kidding. “I see.” You can feel that the state of starstruckness you’d been stuck in since you first met him, is beginning to wane. So the risk of losing his fans was worth more than you? Ok maybe you shouldn’t have been hopeful, you have only known him for an evening and a few, it had maybe been five hours in total.

Stupidity, that’s what it had been, pure stupidity that he would suddenly favor you. You only have yourself to blame, to be honest. His fans was his job, losing them did lower his viewers and earn him less money.

However, your current self didn’t really want to think about the big picture. You only saw him making excuses, and the drinks coursing through your bloodstream boosted your emotions. “Well then you’d better return. Can’t risk you losing them.” You couldn’t resist letting a bit of your anger show in your tone, you were that pissed at him, pissed at them and pissed that you actually found him attractive earlier.

Giving him a mock wave, you begin striding through the alley. Hoping the other side would lead you out near one of the main roads where you could call for a cab. Being anywhere but here in general sounded perfect.

Before you got far though he grasped once again onto your hand, halting your progress. “Darling wait!” Wait for what, wait for him to drag you back into that jealous mob again? Nope, no thank you.

You turn, trying to pull your hand out of his. “For what? Sorry to tell you this but I don’t like being dragged along with your mood one moment. To be ignored and meanly stared at the next.” You shoot him a glare, voice slightly shaky from you speaking too fast and the uncomfortable feeling rising in your throat.

“I don’t work like that.” You finally manage to wrangle your wrist from his grip and you give escaping from this whole situation another try.

“I can’t just let you go home alone!”

Well that makes you stop if anything would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the new year came way too early if you ask me. My break is over in four days and then I won't be able to spit out as many chapters as I'd like :c  
> In any case, I find that Mettaton is kinda narcissistic fits him and also that the reader has to help him work on that will be fun to write. Oh yes Mettababe, you're going to learn how to take care of others. Also this chapter is a bit shorter than the others is because I didn't know where to cut it since this scene continues in the next one.


	5. Staying in contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton really has a way with words, and you're too tired to care.

When you look back at him again, you see him smack his palm to his face. Most likely realizing what he just said. You weren’t sure what to take his exclamation, did he really mean it the way it’d sounded or was it just an accident that it wound up like that.

His next words assured you a little.

“N-not in that way that you might think Darling. I-It’s dangerous for anybody to go home alone at this time.” Was he stuttering? Ok even if you were still kinda pissed with him, it was slightly endearing that he was getting all flustered from the one bad remark. Seems like he’s having some issues wording out what he really wants to say.

He’s biting his lips slightly, ok you must admit that it’s still kind of attractive when he does that. Not that you really want to feel those lips again. No sir.

Okay focus, remember what an ass he’d been earlier. Don’t let his charms play you again. You fold your arms over your chest, shooting him an impatient look that you hoped told him that he should get himself together and spit out whatever he wanted to say. It’s easier being the quiet partner in a conversation, you’ve figured this from years of listening to people blab. If you spoke, you would surely mess something up, embarrassing yourself. Thus you preferred keeping your mouth shut.

It seems to work somewhat. You can certainly hear his fans to whirring as he struggles, it’s kind of funny in a way, you being able to throw him off his loop. Or maybe it was just the mess-up he’d done earlier that made him cautious of what he’s saying, either way, he finally seems to find his speech again.

Running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, he sighs. Slight anger, here we go again. “Listen Darling, finding somebody like you who can moves as fabulously as you do is a rare thing for me, even in my career. So if I let you go like this, maybe never seeing you again since you obviously have some issue with- ah”

Nice, he’d caught onto how his wording made you sizzle a bit. He coughs slightly before continuing, somebody save you. “ahem- I mean…” a pause “I just don’t want to lose the opportunity to get to know you Darling.” He’s smiling again, a bit awkwardly though and it made him seem so adorable.

Alright, someone should seriously consider saving you from this situation. Your hands snapped up to your face at his daring confession and you’re now blushing furiously. Why in the world was he able to send you on an emotional rollercoaster like this? Your anger had entirely subsided at his honest words, leaving only embarrassment. You still felt like escaping though, just for a different reason than earlier.

“O-Oh, uhm…” Aw shucks, now you were stuttering. “I dunno about going back there though…” You hesitated, meaning what you said. You really did not want to return to this club for a long time, since the people in there would immediately recognize you. As the person that had the audacity to sit beside Mettaton, they would mark your appearance and remember you.

Then you suddenly got an idea. Rummaging in your pockets, you dug out your phone. Intending to hand it to the superstar, you really hoped that you would not regret this decision. “Hey look, I’m tired and sore from tonight so I actually do have to go back now.” If he had dog ears they would drop, he looked dejectedly at you. How was he able to give off this mental image, you didn’t question and just continued explaining yourself. You waved your phone as to clue him on. “However, if you give me your phone-number we can meet up again.”

Ears definitely perking up again, he’s practically beaming as he plucks your phone from your hand. “Wonderful idea Darling!” You _really_ hope that you wouldn’t regret this, you’d never been in any form of contact with celebrities before after all.

After putting in his phone-number as a new contact, he hands back your phone. You curiously open it, to see what he added himself as. You almost fail at concealing a snot as you read the contact name ‘The Fabulous Mettaton’, it suited him sure, but also seemed slightly silly. Well silly or no, you’ve now acquired the number of a superstar. Quite an achievement if you asked yourself, dreamlike some would even say. However, it didn’t quite feel real yet. When your anger disappeared, it apparently took some of your earlier energy with it. Yawning slowly, you can’t help but long for your soft bed. Stretching your back to release some of those tensed muscles, you really just wanted to go home now.

Mettaton seems to actually get the clue, for first time all night. “You sound exhausted Darling, do you want a ride home?”

“No I’m alright, my apartment isn’t too far. I’ll just get a cab.” You decide to reject his offer, since you didn’t really know him that well yet. You also knew that accepting the ride would attract all sorts of attention. Attention you couldn’t handle right now.

Suddenly following your hints, he just purses his lips. “Alright then Sweetie, but send me a text when you come home alright?”

You hesitantly agree, sensing that he wouldn’t let you go without atleast that much of a promise as for your safety. It feels weird to have him all worried though, but now that you think about it, it does make sense. Since he didn’t know of your usual job he would think that you couldn’t defend yourself if anything happened. You almost feel like snorting again, as if working as a late-night bouncer didn’t teach you how to handle people. But you kept quiet, he might not approve of your choice of night-work like others have. It hurt when people had so little faith in you, and you didn’t want him to fuss over it as well.

Finally, you manage to turn away from the sight of the superstar without being held back. Satisfied, you walk through the alley as you hear the clink of his heels against the concrete. Going back into the club, undoubtedly to assure his fans that he did indeed still love them. Good idea to avoid joining in on that, you suspected that it would’ve turned into a brawl or something if Mettaton came back inside with you in tow.

You finally find your way back to the main streets, waving in a free cab and directing them to bring you back to your safe haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll say, this was a lot easier when I didn't have to stress over school (=w=')
> 
> But in any case! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and loved that I just want to kiss all of you guys and I hope you'll stick with me!!! <3


	6. Notifications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Texting with a superstar turns out to be a fun experience. Also, you really love sleeping in.

While you were dozing off against the window of the cab, the driver had apparently arrived at your address. Seeing you asleep, they roughly shook you so that you woke up and paid for the ride. They did want to get back to work, the night wasn’t far along yet after all.

You tiredly trudged up the stairs, really wishing that you lived on the first or just the second floor. Instead of the cursedly sixth floor with no lift that you currently suffered from. The elevator had been broken for months, the landowner not really bothering to pay and fix it yet. Which left you and fellow residents suffering, by having to take the harsh hike up the long staircase. It takes you almost double the time you usually make it, since your legs are sore and you can’t really muster the strength to jog up the steps like you normally would. The exercise of walking up six floors of stairs was something you could live without right now.

Finally arriving at your door, you unlock it and stumble through the opening. Remembering to lock it again behind you, making sure that nobody unwanted would enter, you fumble your way through the darkness of your cozy apartment. Stubbing your poor toes against one of the chairs, you let out a curse before finally locating the light switch for your bedroom lights. Projecting a nice cone of soft illumination, you use it to guide yourself into the bathroom to get ready to sleep.

While standing absentmindedly with a toothbrush between your lips, you recall your earlier promise to a certain robot. Digging out the needed device, you decide to just send a casual text to the superstar.

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton - 1:23**

**Got home safe. Gonna go sleep for twelve hours now.**

Yup, that ought to be good enough. You stuff it back in your pocket where it belongs and proceeds to get ready to fulfill what you told him. Sleeping for half a day was kind of a routine for you. When it came to the few ones where you didn’t have to work, you liked wasting them away unconscious. It was always nice to catch up on the sleep that you’d been missing out on during the week.

When finishing up, you strip off your clothes (unessecary) and jump into your sleepwear. You just barely manage to make yourself place your phone on the nightstand, instead of dumping it with the rest of your discarded stuff. You had lost it in the mess that was your bedroom floor before, forcing you to actually clean up all of the unknown litter that covered almost every inch of your flooring.

Right before you fall asleep, you see that your phone lights up with an incoming message. However, your tired body denies your order to move and instead you doze off without checking it.

As expected, you sleep until about one. Though with your mind still groggy, you lay and doze for a couple more hours before you’re finally awake enough to register your surroundings. Rubbing your crusted eyes clear, you sit upright in your pile of blankets and pillows. Remembering the message you’d received last night, you reach out to grab your phone from your nightstand.

Unlocking it with a swipe of your finger (you never really bothered with codes since they were a pain) you check the unopened text in your inbox.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 1:35**

**Wonderful Darling! Sweet dreams <3**

You can’t resist the smile creeping to your lips. Last night seemed slightly surreal, you actually dared to get all annoyed at the very Mettaton. Well, your outburst seemed to gain you his phone number, so no harm done you suppose. Even if the drinks you’d downed seemed to make your mind even less than happy today.

Body groaning from last night’s treatment, you manage to coax it off the bed and step into your bathroom to take a nice refreshing shower. Ah yes. Showering definitely helps with your sore muscles and clears your head from the alcohol-induced haze. You stay in there a bit longer than your bills approved of, reveling in the moment. When you hear the beep of an incoming message, you’re snapped out of your daze. Jumping out of the shower to grab a towel and dry yourself off. You walk into your bedroom to see who’s been texting you this early in the morning. Wait scratch that. This lovely afternoon. You forgot for a moment just how much of the day was gone because of your bad sleeping habits.

Opening the message, you’re surprised that it’s actually Mettaton who’s bugging you.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:07**

**Good afternoon Darling, how did you sleep?**

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:10**

**By the way Darling, how do you even manage to sleep for so long? Even me charging up doesn’t require that much time.**

You can’t help but smile at the second message, it seemed like he didn’t understand how different human sleeping-schedules work. It also seemed like he’d taken your statement about sleeping twelve hours seriously. That’s actually kinda funny.

You can’t resist laughing a little at the thought, the all influential Mettaton seemingly didn’t understand entirely how the human body worked. Well of course you didn’t know how his did either, so it somewhat made sense. It doesn’t stop you from doubling over as you wonder about all the other small human things that might freak the superstar out. Oh man, maybe you should start explaining these things to him so that he wouldn’t startle on camera.

Hm, that maybe wasn’t that bad of an idea. It would certainly provide for a stable conversational topic to continue talking about. You’ll try to ask if he wanted you to explain it to him.

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:21**

**Haha omg. Ok Mettaton, I think you don’t really know how sleep works for us.**

Not much more than a handful of seconds pass, before you receive a reply.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:21**

**How so Sweetie?**

You cannot resist laughing again as you type out the explanation.

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:24**

**Ok so, we don’t really have a certain set of hours needed to ‘recharge’ our energy. Like some humans can just sleep the day away and still be tired, while others only need maybe five hours to feel rested. We categorize the different types within A, B and C groups, but I won’t go too far with that stuff rn. Just know that I’ve been sleeping for a long time today as to catch up on sleep that I’ve missed throughout the week.**

The message was kind of long, but you didn’t know otherwise how to explain why you’d been out cold for that long. Again, it didn’t take a long time before he replied

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:25**

**I see, how long do you usually need to feel rested? Sounds like quite a hassle to regulate.**

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton – 14:27**

**Well, people say that we should get about 8-9 but I tend only to catch 5-7 on workdays because of my job.**

You could almost imagine his scandalized expression, insistently typing to you that you should take better care of yourself. Continuing on, you explained other small quirks that was persistently bugging him when conversing with other humans. This way, you spent most of the afternoon and evening texting him. Never leaving your phone out of reach since talking to him was actually fun.

When night rolled along, you’d wasted most of your day just lazing about without really getting anything done. Even if your fridge was almost empty, and your pile of dirty laundry hadn’t moved. You found that you didn’t really mind that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, This chapter was actually really fun and easy to write! I managed to tackle some homework and get this done and it's not even shit at night! What a miracle! 
> 
> But really, thank you so much guys for cheering me on! I'll promise not to stress too much and make sure to balance this with the other stuff that I need to keep an eye on now (/owo)/ 
> 
> Also, if any of you guys know of a better way to write text messages, I would love to hear it!


	7. How to handle a ruffian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working a night-job isn't the easiest but you don't mind it all that much.

The next day is hell. Or at the very least, it feels like something close to the fictional place.

Since you hadn’t gone shopping or cleaned up the pervious day, you’re now left with doing these before work. Which, to be honest, is a big issue. It ate away at the time you would usually spend getting mentally ready for a night filled with pushy drunk people. Nevertheless, you now had to spend that precious time running back and forth with groceries and laundry, feeling even more stressed than before.

When the clock finally chimes around seven, you’re only halfway ready for work. While your hair was alright, you had yet to dig out a suitable pair of clothes to wear. In the end, you just go with the safe bet, a t-shirt, sweatshirt and trousers. All of a different dark shade that would conceal spills and dirt from the more aggressive patrons of the club. Working as a bouncer might be a bit risky, leaving you sore and tired after a day’s work, but it paid well.

You were just cutting it short with the time, and you just managed to grab your phone and wallet before running out the door. You had to half-jog your way to your workplace, and while you were used to it, you still didn’t like arriving short on breath. You just hated running in general, since the exercise left you sweaty and uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, you manage to be there in time for the doors to open. The owner is a nice fellow that let you work two separate jobs at the club. Your primary being a bouncer and the secondary was as a backup dancer, when the Dj’s needed somebody on the scene. Both was taxing on your body but you enjoyed it, giving you a nice income, certainly enough to keep yourself and your little apartment running.

He was just getting the tables and bar ready for the night when you walked in, shooting you a smile and greeting before returning to his task. He was a big and burly man, leaving little doubt for most patrons that making a mess would end up in a bad time. However, to you and your co-workers, he was nice, giving off an uncle-ish feeling. You just knew that if you had a rough costumer, he would almost instantly be there, hauling them off.

It was about time to open the doors to the night-time crowd and you positioned yourself outside of the entrance, checking anyone that seemed too young to you. A few complain when you demand them showing their ID’s, a few actually too young to go into the club and you send them on their merry way. The youngsters thin out as the night gets longer, lessening around midnight which grants you a small break. After that the drunks arrive, you really hate interacting with them. stubborn as a mule, they keep trying to convince you that they were sober and allowed to enter the cozy club. You just keep standing there, a barred entrance that they wouldn’t be able to enter tonight, not provoking nor friendly. You were used to handling them even if you found it annoying.

At one point around two in the morning, one of the drunks try to take a swing at you. Having attended self-defense classes and other random martial arts courses, you easily dodged and pinned the offender to the ground.

When you finish around three for the next pair of bouncers to take your place, you finally remember to check your phone. There is actually a couple of messages from Mettaton, oh boy, you’ve forgotten to look at this thing all day.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 15:53**

**Good afternoon Darling! Did you sleep well?**

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 20:36**

**My guess why you’re not replying to me would be that you’re either busy with work or you misplaced your phone. No matter, whenever you see this I just wanted to ask if you’d like to meet up again this upcoming week.**

You can’t resist the stupid smile that spreads across your face as you read the second message, it had only been a couple of days and he already wanted to hang out again. You’d think that he is way too busy to just spend his precious time with some no-name person. Despite you being tired, a certain spring enters your step on your way home as you think about seeing him again. After the entire conversation the two of you had going yesterday, you found out the he wasn’t a bad guy. Just a bit self-centered.

You decide against texting him at this time though, he must be asleep – err… charging – by now in any case. Making a mental note, as to remember to text him when you wake up, you walk on the darkened side streets that would bring you home. While walking home at shit in the morning was a bit eerie, you’ve actually never encountered anything bad on your way home.

When you finally arrived at the door to your apartment, you felt exhausted. Sleeping for another twelve hours suddenly seems very attractive. Silently arguing with yourself up the stairs, one part of you desperately seeking enough rest for your body, while the other argued that you had stuff you needed to do tomorrow. You just decided that you would sleep a few extra hours compared to normal, this way you both got about 8 hours and you didn’t waste the day only sleeping and working.

Stepping into your apartment, you see that there’s a pile of dirty dishes in the sink that you’d forgotten to clean today and was honestly beginning to stink. Sighing, you grab a bottle of freshbreeze from the shelf above the sink, spraying the odor away until you could wash the dishes tomorrow. One more thing that would demand that you woke up a little earlier, guessing by how the addition to your chores already weighed on your mind.

Urgh, whatever. You would deal with it tomorrow.

Getting ready for bed made you feel a lot more comfortable, especially compared to when wearing your stinky work clothes and walking outside. Letting out a content sigh, you finally wriggle under your covers.

Sleep hit you fast and allowed your sore body to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, you guys are so fucking precious. Each and every comment is precious, every kudos is precious, EVERYTHING IS PRECIOUS. Except for that drunk guy, that guy is not precious at all (=w=)  
> Sorry for the belated chapter, I lost my Beta for my other Fic and I had to work on it myself for a long time yesterday and alas didn't manage to finish the chapter for yesterday! Which I instead posted today! Hope you guys like it, more storydevelopment will be happening soon!!


	8. Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you even call meeting up with a single friend who you may - and may not have had a celebrity crush on before you met them?

The next day, you actually manage to drag your sleepy carcass out of the bed at a modest hour. It was a challenge that you managed to win, even if it meant that you felt like dunking your head into a bucket of ice to wake yourself up. You were going about your morning routines, when you recall the message that you received yesterday from Mettaton.

Fishing out the phone, you type a sleepy reply.

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton – 8:09**

**Sorry about not replying yesterday, had work and first saw the message when I got home late.**

Placing it on the bathroom sink, you lean forward to squint at yourself in the mirror. Trying to find some way to fix your horrible morning-hair, maybe dunking your head into that bucket wasn’t that bad of an idea.

Still groggy, you stumble into your kitchen, completely given up on however your hair is supposed to look and just decide that today is going to be a hat-day. This time you remembered to bring your phone with you, putting it on the counter, while you start making some modest breakfast – scrambled eggs. When chewing on a spoonful of the delicious mess, you heard the vibrations of your phone going off.

With your fork still stuck between your lips, you use the hand not holding the plate to pick up the device.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 8:31**

**Oh Darling! Great to hear from you again! I was starting to worry if anything happened to you.**

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 8:31**

**By the way Darling, what did you think about meeting up again sometime during the week?**

You can’t resist smiling, which results in you dropping the fork on the floor. Cursing slightly, you pick it up and dump it in the sink as you grab a new one, finishing the rest of the fried goodness. When both of your hands are both free and the dishes dumped in the sink, you finally managed to text him back.

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton – 8:47**

**Sure, which day did you have in mind?**

With that done, you flop yourself over onto the couch to process your breakfast. Wait, wasn’t there something you were supposed to do today? You look over to the already overfilled sink, ah, right. It takes you at the very least about twenty minutes to get off the couch, another ten to get your stubborn self over to the sink and turning on the water. So that some of the goop stuck to the plates is worn off, before you have to stick your hands in there. It’s still pretty gross.

You idly check your phone again, noticing a notification that you hadn’t heard chime in. it’s from Mettaton of course, actually there’s a few of them.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 8:51**

**I was thinking Wednesday, since I only have a shooting early in the morning and a talk show late in the evening.**

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 8:56**

**Darling?**

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 9:03**

**You misplaced your phone again, didn’t you? We really have to work on that Sweetie.**

You’re smiling again, a big dumb grin spreading across your face. Letting out the stupidest giggle that you can think of, you type out a reply.

**To: The Fabulous Mettaton – 9:12**

**Yeah, you know me too well and Wednesday is perfect! I first have to meet up late so we have plenty of time, where do you want to go?**

An almost instant reply.

**From: The Fabulous Mettaton – 9:13**

**I was thinking about going to that cute café down the street, “Karma” I think it was called.**

You think you know the place, a bit out of your usual pricerange, but you suppose that Mettaton wouldn’t like any of the places you would usually hang out, since it was cheap. Celebrity standard you supposed. Well, going once wasn’t going to eat your entire budget, and you’d heard that the lunches there were a decent price, compared to the dinner menus.

You send him a confirmation on the idea – adding that you think that eating lunch there would be good – and he practically starts gushing with ideas on what to do after you’ve met up and eaten. Suddenly, your week doesn’t seem as bland as before. With Mettaton in the picture, you can look forward to something other than your work-hours and lounging around your apartment.

The next couple of days are a blur, one of the other bouncers apparently quit the previous night, something about them not being able to keep their wits about them when confronting drunk patrons. So you, and some of the other employees, had to pull a few extra hours those two nights, until the boss found a trustworthy guy to hire. He was always nitpicky with who he wants to work for him; you still wondered why he’d chosen you out of all the other applicants, when you first tried to get the job.

When Wednesday finally rolls around, you’re tired. Satisfied with more money on your bank account, but tired. Working extra hours on the hard side of midnight wore you down, but you really did want to see Mettaton again, since both of you have both been texting back and forth whenever you had the time.

You’re out of the doors, into the relative coolness that signed that winter haven’t yet completely resigned over into spring. You’re wearing casual clothes with a thin jacket, it helps keep you warm until it the temperature rises as it should over midday. The wind is picking up though, your hair getting all fuzzed up and in your face, so much for looking acceptable for your… uh, what would you call it? Date? Nah, too intimate. Meetup? Weren’t those with more people than two? Hmmm, maybe just hanging out? Meh, whatever. You didn’t feel like speculating about the odd relationship between you and the celebrity.

When you finally figure out which way to go, you can feel your fingers freeze a bit, blowing into them to –hopefully – warm them up you continue on. Karma isn’t that hard to find, considering the modest size you thought that it would be a pain in the ass to locate. But there it is, nicely out in the open. You check your phone for the time, seeing that you’re still a few minutes early. Nice. That gave you time to smoothen your nerves a little, even if it still is a bit cold to be waiting outside for him.

It’s a little nerve-wracking to meet up with him in public like this, to be entirely honest. In the clubs, the darkness and the many people actually helped disguising him. In the large buzzed crowd, he was nobody in a sea of unrecognizable others. Now you were going to see him at daytime, without any alcohol to break down your quiet barriers or music to keep the two of you communicating without actually speaking aloud. You were worried about how his fans would see him, going out of his way to spend time with you. Oh my god, would there be paparazzi? Please no.

You’re still internally debating if this was a wise idea, when you heard somebody calling your name. Turning, you saw Mettaton come striding elegantly towards you, as fashionable as always in a black fur coat and one of those berets that you would think that no-body could pull off wearing.

“Sweet Darling! Am I late?”

Is it possible to actually have your heart leap up your throat from relief?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry for the delay my Darlings! School and games pulled me away from the computer! So to make up for it, the chapter is a little longer than usual <3
> 
> Oh my gosh, over 100 kudos on this silly thing, I am soooo honored! Thank you sweeties!!!!


	9. What do you even call it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have absolutely no idea how to handle this date-ish thing you've got going on.

Swallowing your heart down where it belongs, you smile at the approaching figure. When you’re not drunk, you notice a lot more about him, like how his irises and boots apparently are customizable. His eyes are a clear magenta today, with black boots that matches with the shiny furcoat. You wondered if he would ever exit his house without making sure that he looked perfect in every single way. No, he wouldn’t, it didn’t fit the impression you’ve gotten from the numerous texts. He wouldn’t be a slob.

When he’s only a few steps away from you, you reply.

“Hey Mettaton, don’t worry about it, I came early.”

He suddenly looks scandalized. “You’ve been waiting for me in this weather? Darling let’s get you inside, you must be freezing.”

You wanted to laugh at the horrified look he’s shooting you. “As I said, don’t worry about it. It was my own fault. I just didn’t want to end up being late myself if I had a hard time finding this place.”

Oh dear, he’s doing the lip-biting thing again. Don’t focus on it. _Do not_. Don’t turn into a creep, nope. He’s just wondering about something, the lip-biting thing is probably his absentminded habit. But while he’s doing it without noticing, you’re _definitely_ noticing it.

Keep your eyes to _yourself_ , you.

He’s speaking again, ok, look him in the eye. There, all better.

“But Darling, that jacket you’re wearing can’t be very warm. Come on now, let’s get you inside before you start freezing.” And with that, he grasps onto your hand, leading you inside.

His palm is larger than yours, and he’s surprisingly strong, well actually it shouldn’t seem like something odd, considering that he’s made of metal and one of his TV-shows is literally called “Cooking with a killer Robot”. Somehow, despite that, the realization of his strength still comes as a shock to you. Also, even with gloves, his hand is warm. Okay you didn’t know why that was the case, as most other unexplainable stuff you just decide to blame it on magic.

Entering the restaurant, you realize that it actually was kind of cold outside, since the comfortable heat is easing out some tense muscles in your neck that you didn’t even realize were stiff. Even your whole body relaxes as Mettaton speaks to the waitress at the entrance, telling her the name for the booking he’d made for the place. Hm, it didn’t seem like there were a lot of people in here yet. Perhaps booking a table was a bit excessive, but whatever.

The waitress is more or less squealing at Mettaton, insisting on taking a selfie with him. Releasing you, he happily agrees. One selfie later, a swarm of waiters and cooks that insist on escorting the two of you while talking to the superstar, to your table. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, the press of bodies is smothering and you kind of wished that Mettaton was physically able to change his appearance to something less – you don’t know – flashy? Nevertheless, you feel like you can handle it a little better, when his hand is intertwining itself with yours again, squeezing it reassuringly.

When the two of you are finally situated, Mettaton apologizes to the crowd, telling them that he needs his privacy. Most of them are reluctant to leave, but finally gets out of your space once he repeats it a bit more firmly. While they’ve slithered away, you can feel his extended hand squeeze yours again under the table. It helps easing you up a bit, even with everybody in the room staring accusingly at you. Honestly, it’s kind of ruining your appetite. Nothing on the menu really looks appetizing; maybe you’ll only go with a sandwich or something like that, to get nothing too heavy in your slightly upset stomach.

Mettaton isn’t even looking at the menu, well he kind of is, but not really. Whenever you’re looking up, your eyes meet and you’re pretty sure that is something he’s doing on purpose, or maybe he’s just been looking at you all this time. You didn’t feel like finding out would matter much, since he’d probably end up just dismissing it with a whole “ You’re too self-conscious” talk. Your dates had done that before.

When the – slightly less – eager waitress return to take both of your orders, she’s actually rather nice to you, nothing malicious. She only quips up when she’s received the orders, happily telling the two of you that she’ll be right back with your meals. The mood eases a little when she leaves, guess the two of you were both worried about something.

After a few minutes of slightly awkward kinda-staring-at-each-other-and-then-look-away, you finally pull out the toad stuck in your throat.

“S-So, how’re the shows going?” Actually a safe topic for once brain, nice job. You can literally see stars burst forth in his eyes, that’s how you knew that this was something you could always ask him about.

“Oh Darling, they’re absolutely perfect! Coming up here added a great flair to my cookingshow with all of the human ingredients I can now add to my exquisite dishes and I’ve started to find that you humans have plenty of dishes to keep my show running.”

“That’s great.” You meant it, he looked so happy, it was endearing.

“Indeed, and many of the other talkshow hosts have started to give me new ideas for shows, of course they wish to be starred too…” He stops that trail for some reason or another, you guess that some of those requests had been extremely self-centered. “But that’s a story for another day Darling. Now that we speak of tales, what is yours? Since most information about me is available on the internet for the world to see, I believe that nothing I tell you would come as a surprise.”

Taking a sip of your water, you contemplate what he said. While it’s true that anything you wished to know about Mettaton was public and easy to find, you hadn’t actually read a lot of it. Doing so made you feel so, stalker-ish. “Actually no, Mettaton. I haven’t really been researching a whole lot about you. I um, find it kind of rude to try and pry everything about you out of a Wikipedia site, since that stuff might not be reliable.” This time it was you who squeezed his hand, smiling. “So what if we throw some questions back and forth? That was you’ll be able to get to know a little more about me, while I get to see if the stuff I already know is true.”

“Great idea Darling!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, sorry for not posting yesterday again *gazes into the distance*
> 
> I'll try to spit out two chapter today though! So watch out for that! c:


	10. Quiz-time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You chat, he chats, the two of you have a great time. Maybe.

His free hand goes in a high curve to express his eagerness for it all. “Since you came up with this wonderful idea Sweetie, I’ll let you ask the first question.

You chew on your lip for a moment, wondering about what you should ask. For now, you decide to stick to subjects that seem safe. “Is it true that you can feel things? Despite being a machine.”

That turns him somewhat smug, you didn’t know that it would boost his ego by asking something that.

“Why yes Darling, the magic that figuratively flows through my veins allow me to feel the things I choose to interact with.”

“Ah, I see. I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yup, so now it’s my turn.” Oh dear, he’s looking real happy with himself. Was there something else within his answer that you didn’t read. “What are your talents?”

Hm. That’s a good one. “I guess dancing is the only real thing. Like I can’t sing for the life of me, and my artistic ability is average at best.”

“Huh, well I’m quite glad that I got to see them up close.” He purses his lips, like he’s thinking about something. It almost looks like he’s pouting, but why would he. Ah, it’s your turn to ask.

“Okay my turn, so, what is your favorite thing to do on TV?”

“Oh Darling, that just isn’t fair, I simply cannot just choose.” Okay, now he’s definitely pouting. He looks so adorable like that.

However, you don’t let his pouty exterior sway you, instead, you’re smirking. “Try.”

He drops the façade, clearly realizing that you weren’t going to back down. He’s still pouting though, probably trying to guilt-trip you since you made him choose.

“Fine Darling, I would say… Either the Talent-competitions or my cookingshow.” You’re shaking your head disapprovingly, he’s not getting away that easily.

“Mettaton, only one show.” You’re almost laughing, he’s so stubborn.

“Urgh, do I really have to Darling?”

“Yup.”

You have to prove that you’re just as stubborn as him, but it’s really hard when he starts doing the lip-biting thing again. Do you have a thing for customized pieces of polyester? You fucking pray not because it would be really weird to explain to, well anyone.

He’s sighing, finally taking you seriously.

“Alright, the one I love the most is probably the talent-shows.”

“How come?”

He tuts, you’ve never heard anyone do that outside of cheesy eighties movies. “No, you got your answer Sweetie. It’s my turn to ask.”

You lean back with your hand, conceding. “Alright, alright. But now you know what I’m going to ask next.”

“That’s fine with me.” He’s smiling again, he probably likes being the one in the lead. Yeah ok, that totally doesn’t sound wrong brain, not at all. Generally, you’d fear for your life, innocence or both when people stare at you like he is. However, you know that he’s only going to ask you a question.

“So Darling, are you single?”

Oh wow, you feared for a lot of questions of a different caliber. But not that specific one. Your brain shortcuts for a second, since you can’t figure out _why_ he would want to know that. But while your mind temporarily turns off, your mouth apparently decides to betray you. The reply is worded the stupidest, most unintelligent way possible, and you want to smash your face into the nicely polished table.

“Uh, duh.”

Oh jezz mouth, you’re even worse than the brain. When the actual wording hits you, you can feel your face turn scarlet. Now you’re really contemplating making your escape. Would you be able to get away from the table before his arms could reach you? You seriously wanted to test it since you feel like you just ate a whole chili (you actually did this once on a bet, you won of course, but also suffered harshly in the aftermath) since your face is burning a sharp red and you could feel your eyes sting out of embarrassment.

You just gave away too much information with those two words.

“Oh Darling.” Oh no, please don’t feel pity, you didn’t mind being single. Like for years on end, since people you seemingly were attracted to, always turned out to be assholes before you could reach the point of confessing.

“Ohwowthefoodishereweshouldprobablyeatbeforeitgetscold-“ You’re surprised that you didn’t bite your tongue, considering you were speaking so fast. You weren’t lying, the nice waitress came with both of your plates, yours with a chicken-sandwich and his with a simple salad and soup. A sandwich can’t get cold but you only needed to distract him until you could start shoving food in your mouth to prevent it from spitting anything else brainless.

Not looking at him, you continue to munch on your sandwich while purposely avoiding eye contact. That invisibility talent would be very well-timed if it could show up now.

You jump, almost choking, when you feel a gloved hand grasp your thigh underneath the table.

“Darling, please look at me.”

You obeyed. His eyes were gentle, though still filled with a pity that really made you twitch. You didn’t like pity, it turned friendships awkward and made you look like you hadn’t tried. Like damn, you’d done your best, but it couldn’t be helped that you had the worst taste in partners.

“Hun, there is absolutely nothing wrong with being single, but you shouldn’t think that it is something obvious when it comes to you.”

You don’t reply, just looking absolutely deadpanned at him. What did he know about this? His voice hinted that he knew how it felt.

“Mettaton, have you-?” shit, not the right question.

Not the right thing just _to fucking ask_. Like you wanted to bond over the experience, like a fucking self-pitying fool. _Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty convo-centric and I can tell you guys, I absolutely, purely, intensely DESPISE having to write conversations. Which is why I choose to write a fic with you dating the most chatty character in the entire series, why the heck not. I'm maybe a lil' bit masochistic, but who knows. 
> 
> The reader is also a bit off their expected personality, but that's what writing a character is about, development. Or at the very least that's what people say right?
> 
> Anyway! Tell me what you think, I love reading and replying to every single one of your precious comments.


	11. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you un-fuck something?

You consider chocking on the sandwich and be brought to the hospital, just to avoid this pity-party you suddenly had going.

“S-Sorry Mettaton, I didn’t mean to ask it like that.”

“Like what Sweetie, like a normal curious being?” Well he doesn’t sound mad or offended.

You don’t look up at him at his try at being gentle. “…Like I had any right to know?” You felt like wording it like a question, maybe hadn’t been the best of ideas.

He’s laughing, it sounds a bit forced, but it is a laugh nonetheless. It calms you a little, giving you the courage to look back up into those magneta irises. He’s smiling, he looks kind of sad, oh no.

“Sor-“ You don’t get to finish, one of his gloved fingers make sure of that. It’s on your lips, cutting off whatever apology you might’ve said.

This time the laugh has more of his heart in it. “Darling, Darling. You have nothing to apologize for, I asked and you replied and we somehow got sidetracked from the original game.”

“Yeah but still-“

“Darling.” He’s speaking a little more sternly to you, but when you look back up he’s still smiling.

“Can I ask the next question?” You nod, despite you knowing it was technically your turn.

“Do you want to get out of here? Somewhere a bit more private?” Well, alright. That was actually two questions but you didn’t want to deny that you _very much_ , wanted to ditch this awkward atmosphere.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

With that, he just smiles again. A surprisingly gentle smile that reaches his eyes, and you can feel yourself calm down a little. With you as the suddenly silent companion, Mettaton calls for the waitress and pays for both his and your food. You wanted to protest, since you actually could pay for it. But your protest is waved away by Mettaton, when he literally waves his hand back and forth, as to make you accept him paying for you. Alright, but just this once you decide with yourself.

After paying and accepting all of the love from the other fans in the café, he grabs your hand again and starts walking. You’re both quiet, but it feels less awkward compared to before. Now that you think about, you have no idea where the two of you were going.

“Uh- Mettaton?”

“Yes Darling?”

“Where are we going?”

He stops, and you almost bump into his back from your suddenly interrupted momentum. Why did he suddenly stop? Abruptly, he turns around, releasing your hand to cradle your face instead. Uh. Alright.

“Why Darling I wanted to show you something!”

You’re slightly dumfounded by the sudden intensity he was displaying. Plus, the close proximity between the two of your sent your thoughts off the completely wrong rail. You notice that his eyes aren’t just magneta, but also with small dots of white and pink, you wouldn’t notice this if he wasn’t literally a handful of centimeters away from you. Huh, whoever designed his parts seemed to pay attention to the small details. When he moves a little closer to press his forehead against yours, you can’t prevent yourself from flinching a little. He’s actually not cold, actually his ‘skin’ feels a little warmer than yours.

“Since you didn’t seem all that comfortable in there with all of my fans around you. I thought that I would show you a place that only I know of.”

“O-Oh? Where is that?”

He straightens, still smiling. Pressing a finger to his lips, he speaks.

“It’s a S-E-C-R-E-T.” He’s totally playing around with you now, the little jerk. You pout at him and it just makes him laugh a little before towing off with you again. You notice that the direction you’re taking could be leading to the park, you wonder if the so called ‘secret place’ might be somewhere in there.

It’s confirmed as you see the first peek of green. While Mettaton greets the fans who shout to him, he doesn’t stop to talk to them like before. He might be taking you into account, but you doubted it, since Mettaton was a one-trail kind of guy. If he focused on one thing, he would only pay attention to that, making everything else a secondary priority.

Guess that’s how celebrities roll.

He slows down a bit though, when you reach the end of one of the many paths that’s found throughout the entire park. It’s a dead end, but he continues forward in any case. Dodging branches with such a fluid ease, as to not permit his big coat or hair to get stuck. While you’re slapped in the face by the stupid things at least twice, before you decide to just walk in the heels of the actor to use him as a shield.

“Well, here we are Darling! How do you like it?”

It’s a clearing, filled with something that looked like glowingly blue flowers. You heard a voice carry on the wind, it’s unclear though, despite you straining your ears to pick up on the words. The ocean of flowers seemed to fill the entire open area. Gazing upwards, you see a great tree bent down, as to protect the frailer vegetation.

Underneath the gentle giant, everything is cast in its shadow, making the glow of the leaves all the more visible. It’s stunningly beautiful.

“Wow.” That’s all that escapes past your lips, as your eyes are drawn to the landscape. It’s hard to tear your eyes from the sight, but you manage to do it to gaze at Mettaton. Only to find your eyes meet his, he was apparently looking at you to see your reaction to all of this.

“Come Sweetie, follow me.”

With that, he leads you further through the swaying flowers, you being as careful as possible not to step on any. When the two of you reach the base of the three, he sits down, pulling you down with him. You’re practically in his lap.

Say what now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie! you guys are great! It's really motivating to hear from you all and I just want to smooch each and every single one of you!!! 
> 
> Though I feel like the quality of the chapters are dropping, is that a thing or am I just paranoid? Whatever.


	12. Repeating your memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot more comfortable than you'd thought

You’re not just nearly in his lap, you were right on top of his crossed legs, with his arms wrapped around you. You had no idea how the order of events actually led to this, to be entirely honest, you hadn’t really registered it yet before you can hear the slight whirring of his fans when you’re pressed against his chest.

Swallowing, you tried to pry a reason as to why you were positioned like this on top of him, out of the superstar.

“Mettaton?”

“Yes Darling?”

“Why am I sitting on you?” He laughs at that, his arms tightening slightly before slacking again. You can’t see his face, but you guess that he’s still smiling.

“Why, I couldn’t just let you sit on the damp grass now could I?”

Well. Yeah, you could’ve just crouched down so that you wouldn’t really touch the ground. It would’ve made your legs scream from the strain on your multiple-times-broken bones. However, you apparently didn’t have a chance at convincing this flamboyant robot of this. Anyways, that was the reading you got off of him in any case.

His chin places itself on top of your hair and you suddenly hear his voice coming out of the speakers behind you, instead of his mouth. You jump, as you can feel the slight vibrations through your back. Alright, this felt a little odd. However, it must be practical that he didn’t always have to move his lips to speak.

“I always thought of the echo-flowers as calming. Since I’ve been around them most of my life, I found that just listening to the ancient voices they mimicked gave my soul peace.” Oh, so it was old spoken words that you could hear riding on the breeze, most of them weren’t above a whisper though and you couldn’t make out the majority of the words.

“Is that what I can hear? Conversations?”

A hum of approval sounds from behind you, making a shiver run up your spine at the weird sensation.

“Anything that people who have passed by might’ve said, since the first flower sprouted in this clearing. They’re not always intelligible though, sadly the voices wear away after some time has passed.”

You squeeze the arm draped over your shoulder, you wondered if he really could feel it, despite his earlier reply about his magic making it possible. However, it’s confirmed when you feel another confirming tone travel through his chest. Oh god. This was really weird.

“How do you like it Darling? Feeling more relaxed now?” You take a minute to think it over, checking your own emotional state compared to earlier, you found that it had actually helped to get away from the scrutiny his fans had been looking at you with.  

“…Yes, it helps to get away from the crowd.”

“Hmm…” He’s thinking about something again, you can hear it in his voice. Wait, did these flowers repeat your conversation too?

“Do they also repeat what we’re saying now?”

“Yes, they do. But don’t worry Darling, very few besides from me knows of this place, if you’re worried about others listening in on our conversation.” He nuzzles his nose into the strands of your hair and you can feel yourself flush. Okay. It was perhaps a bit more intimate than what you were comfortable with.

“Uh, Mettaton?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe… not do that?” When you say that, he immediately removes his face from your hair.

“So sorry Darling! Too close?”

“Mhmm.” It was more bearable now, since he wasn’t too far into your personal space. You were grateful that he understood. That he knew that he’d gone a bit too far, too fast for it to be comfortable. You appreciated the sentiment though, since it probably meant that he was comfortable with you.

The two of you sat quietly for a while, just gazing at the marvelous sight before you. It really was beautiful. How many different nuances were there? You couldn’t phantom a guess, since the glow of the flowers seemed to vary in strength, which gave the illusion that the colors were changing.

“…Like a dream” you mumble, not realizing that you’ve spoken out loud. You only realize it as Mettaton comments. “Really?” His voice sounds more relaxed than before, like he was also struck by the same sensation of awe. You don’t reply, just squeezing his arm again.

After a while, you can feel the chill from the wind sneak under your thin jacket, and can’t prevent yourself from shivering a little. Mettaton apparently notice it, since his body suddenly start emanating a slight heat.

It’s seriously comfortable and you lean back a little to rest against his chest. Hoping that he could ward off the worst of the cold. When you do so, you can hear the faint whirring of his fans, telling you that he probably raised his temperature on purpose. You give a small laugh at his attempt at being sneaky.

“Thank you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Now you’re wholeheartedly laughing, he sounded so rebuffed by the idea, it was comical. Before long, he joined in with a light chuckle, whereas you just continued to cackle and smile like an idiot. This whole situation was actually really weird, you being on a something-like-a-date with the robot that thousands of people wished to just talk to, not to mention date.

But since that night, and all of the silly text-messages, you didn’t really think of him as the multitalented superstar that starred in every single type of show watchable on TV. Now you saw him more as, well, just Mettaton.

It was pretty nice to be honest. Just being able to see him as something other than his status, like he was more than the lines repeated on screen.

Time passed and the shadows grew longer, signing that some time had passed with just the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence, noticing how the flowers seemingly glowed more the darker it got. All while you were contemplating the sudden change in your view of Mettaton, you fished out your phone to check the time. Woops.

“Fuck me.”

You were almost late.


	13. Time ticks, the clock grits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not use sarcasm on the robot, it doesn't work very well.

Well you weren’t exactly late yet per se. However, considering the time it took you to get home, get dressed and leave again, you are pretty sure that you were going to be. While your working hours was placed a little later than usual, which is why you agreed on the not-date taking place today in the first place, too much time still seemed to have passed for you to make it in time.

“What’s the matter Darling?” 

“Ah- erhm…” Well, what to say. The truth would probably be the best reply, really. “I’m going to be late for work at this rate”

Wait, you’d just cussed in front of the superstar. Rude, brain. Even if you were going to have to run all the way back, that is no language to keep in front of your – uhm, friend. You were friends right? Well in any case, you will be referring to your relationship as such from now on.

“Oh Sweetie, I’m so sorry! Can I give you a ride home?”

While the offer is very tempting, you figured that the negative outcome of you being spotted by fans riding in Mettaton’s limousine and probably being murdered before you could make it to work (You hope that your mind is exaggerating). Outweighed the positive gain of you getting to your workplace without being late.

Grimacing, you rejected his kind offer; “I don’t think that’s the best idea Mettaton. Even if it’s nice of you.”

He’s pouting again, or so you guessed, since you still couldn’t see his face. You can feel his arms tighten around you in silent displeasure at your denial. However, you know that he also thought of the risks you would be put to if you actually rode with him.

“What if we didn’t ride in my limo?”

“Huh?” Well if he had a car, and it wasn’t too flashy, then it could work. Though, you wondered if he owned anything that wasn’t glittery or a varying shade of pink.

“No-body would be able to tell me apart from the other drivers, and I would get the chance to see your apartment.”

You’re still skeptical, also slightly afraid of the rage from his fans if they caught the two of you going into your cheap apartment. You didn’t want to risk causing a scandal, that would end up hurting Mettaton’s reputation.

You bit your lip, thinking hard about it.

Oh why the heck not.

“Fine, but I really don’t want to hear any comments when you see my apartment, it’s cheap and the interior is nothing to brag about.” You wanted to make sure that he knew, so he wouldn’t be disappointed. You hated when people commented on the slight mess or the badly matched furniture.

“I won’t judge Hun.” Somehow, you doubted that.

“Sure.”

“You don’t have a whole lot of faith in me, do you Darling?”

Woops, busted. You’ve just been putting on such a flawless acting too, hah, sarcasm.

Well the worst he could do was pass out from the sheer terror, if he did, you would be sure to get out of his way. You didn’t want x-number of kilos that was pure machinery to fall down on you. You just mumble some kind of excuse, but it seems like he wasn’t having any of it.

“I’ll show you how trustworthy I am Darling.” When you registered something mischievous in his tone, it was too late. With his arms tightening around you, he picked you up, as if you weighed nothing at all. Standing up, he started marching though the field of glowing flowers. He shifted his hold on you a little, carrying you more bridal-style than anything.

“M-Mettaton! What are you doing?!”

“Trust me Sweetie!” He’s laughing, the dork. You flail, trying to make him drop you. But it only results in him twirling the arm another round around your legs, keeping you still.

“Now, now Darling, no need to object. I’m just bringing you to our ride.”

What? Through the park? No way.

Just as your panicky mind started to freak out even more, a loud roar of a motor rang through the air, you would’ve jumped if you could, it was that loud. Mettaton was nearly through the bushes and you could almost look through the growth ahead where the path started to appear. Only to spot something black waiting there.

“You see darling, as we were having our little discussion. I asked a favor from one of my friends, in return they could use the bike to pick up their partner.”

Walking through the remaining branches, you’re met with the sight of a black-clothed rider on top of a very powerful-looking motorbike. Behind them, clinging to the rider, is a smaller form and you swear that you can see a yellow tail trail behind them. Both hop off the bike at the sight of Mettaton, the bigger figure pulling off their helmet to reveal a wide grin. Red fins, seemingly functioning a similar fashion as ears and rippling blue scaled skin. Huh, now you’re meeting a fish-monster, interesting. Behind then, the smaller monster eased themselves down on the ground from the height of the bike, you noticed that their helmet was shaped in a different fashion. When taking it off, your theory based on the tail was confirmed as the dinosaur like monster nervously stepped up beside the other.

Finally putting you down on the ground, Mettaton enthusiastically greeted the pair.

“Undyne! Alphys! Thank you darlings so much for running this small errand for me.”

The large monster grin widens further as they retort. “No biggie Mettaton, it was fun to go on a ride with Alphys!” Their voice is deep and hoarse, and when they finish, they bend down to place a peck on the top of the smaller monster. The yellow dinosaur squeaks and flushes beet red. Huh, they were the couple that Mettaton had mentioned.

“U-U-Undyne! N-not in public!” The exclamation doesn’t seem to faze Undyne much, since she just bends down to pick up her girlfriend. Spinning around once, she continued peppering light kisses onto the headscales of her partner. Laughing all the while, Undyne calms down a bit. Though still not putting down her girlfriend.

“So Mettaton, this’ your human friend?”

Uhm.

Suddenly you feel awkward, being looked up and down by the slightly intimidating monster. But then she bares her teeth again, grinning wildly.

“You look hella strong for a human!” She turns back towards Mettaton, squeezing a little tighter around her girlfriend, whose face is almost crimson by this point, her hands trying to cover her head. “Why didn’t you tell us that they were strong?! I should’ve met them before this!”

Mettaton puts on an apologetic mask, but you can see that it’s completely fake, he’s not even trying.

“Why Undyne, the thought didn’t pass my mind. I just simply didn’t think of them being able to compete with your strength.” He then proceeds to shoot her a guilty look. “But you know how I can’t measure others strength as easily as you.”

“True that! I’m one of the strongest there is!” Gently placing her girlfriend on the ground, she then proceeds to reach out her hand for a handshake. You grab it, and you can feel the bones in your hand being ground together as she squeezes it.

“Nice to meet ya runt!”

“Nice to meet you too Undyne.”

When she releases you, you also reach out your hand to greet Alphys, if you remembered correctly; she was the one who actually built Mettaton.

“I-It’s nice to finally meet you. Mettaton’s been talking a lot about you during his checkups.”

“Hm? Oh really? Well in any case, it’s a pleasure to meet you too Alphys.” You were going to use that information at a later date, but for now you focused on making a good impression for the pair.

“T-Th-Thank you.”

Breaking in between the bonding moment, Mettaton impatiently asks if Undyne brought the stuff that he needed.

“Yeah for sure! It’s in the luggage bag on the back.”

With that, Mettaton leaves you with his friends to saunter over and rummage through the bags hoisted over the seats of the bike. You continue to make a bit of smalltalk with the pair, even if your attention is focused on whatever Mettaton is looking for in that huge bag.

It seemed like they’d been some of the first monsters to emerge from the underground, you figured as much, after the entire scandal that blew up on the news after the first contact between monsters and humans was made. You could also vaguely recall some images of Undyne and another group, and you definitely remembered the documentary interview with Alphys about her work that you’d watched at Mettaton’s recommendation, a few days prior.

But you hadn’t known that they were close friends, huh, sneaky robot.

“Darling!” Your attention is fully snapped away from the pair as, you hear Mettaton call for you. He’s holding a warm leather jacket, gloves and a black helmet.

“You’ll need to be wearing these for the ride. That jacket of yours isn’t warm enough if we’re going to be driving in this weather.”

Oh, so that was what he’d told Undyne to bring. Practical. Wait, how did he even contact her in the first place? You decide to store that question for a later time. Walking up to him and slipping the jacket over the one you’re already wearing, you notice that it’s a little big on you. No matter, it was probably Undyne’s since Mettaton’s would most likely hang even looser on your frame.

“Wonderful! We’ll be going now Alphys, Undyne, enjoy your date!”

Oh right, you were short on time.

Pulling the helmet over your head, you also put on the gloves. They were nice and warm, fuzz coating the inside to help you gain more movement in your slightly frozen fingers.

The pair yelled a farewell at the two of you as you stood by the side of the bike, unsure about how to do this. When you looked back at Mettaton, he’d shed his fuzzy coat and beret. Instead, he was now wearing a slick jacket slightly similar to yours and shades. For a second, you wondered if he could see with those when the sky was already darkening, but you guessed that his eyes could adjust to his needs so you just shrugged it off without thinking too deeply about it.

“Alright Darling, I’ll have you sit on the back. Ah- though I’ll need your address to reach your building.” He looked sheepishly at you, until you finally snapped back to reality and told him.

“Let’s not waste any more time then Hun, I’ll steer while you sit on the back and we’ll be there in a short moment.”

You nodded. “Alright, what do I hold onto?”

“Why you have to wrap your arms around me Sweetie. Couldn’t have you fall off, now can we?”

“…Sure.” He laughs lightly at this. Before you know it, you find yourself positioned behind him, arms tightly wrapped around his waist as you could feel the freezing wind whip at your jacket. You’re just desperately holding onto him, like your life depended on it.

Well you supposed that it kind of did, guessing by the high speed he was going at, plus the sharp turns he took at the most unpredictable times.

However, the thirty-minute walk you took to get to the café, is cut down to a few minutes. Before you even notice it, he’s stopped in front of your apartmentbuilding. Home sweet home you suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter at about 2000 words! I'm on a roll! 
> 
> Hehe, this chapter was fairly easy to write and I'm getting better at not making dumb grammar mistakes, or so I hope :V


	14. Please don't make yourself at home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You sometimes forget how fuzzy your friend is.

Forcing your stiffened legs over the seat of the bike, you resign yourself to the sad fate of presenting your messy household to the nitpicky superstar. You can recall atleast four sets of clothing was strewn over the floor of your livingroom. Honestly, your utmost goal was to keep the robot out of your bedroom, not even giving that mess a chance of acceptance.

Honestly, it had probably been way too long since you’d done a through cleanup of your humble abode. There was undoubtedly a few moldy remains sitting in the cupboards or some stains on the carpet that you had yet to remove. Not to mention that it’d been ages since anybody had visited, so you haven’t actually tried to make it atleast presentable.

You trudge up the many stairs, Mettaton easily tagging behind. Shooting you the odd question every once in a while.

Once you finally reached your floor, you really wished that you’d just accepted your fate by being late instead of having to show your horrid excuse of a home to Mettaton. Oh how you wanted to go back in time and fully reject his offer. Welp, wishful thinking was one of your better talents, you had to admit that. Even if those talents didn’t include time-traveling, despite your desperate wishes you’d made for it to be the case on multiple occasions, including this one.

Swallowing your nervousness, you unlock the door, mumbling.

“Come on in I guess.”

When entering, you quickly pick up the discarded clothes on the floor and run over to toss them into your bedroom.

Going back into the livingroom, you find Mettaton looking over your interior, not really moving away from the doorway. You wince at the obvious distaste he is displaying, though you didn’t want him to shoot any sass your way, since he was the one who came here partly unannounced. Urgh. You retreat back into your bedroom to change, just throwing on something casual. When you were done, you walked out to snap slightly at the still passively standing robot. He hadn’t even sat down or anything, probably because he was scared it would stain him or something ridiculous like that.

“Let’s go. No need to say anything, I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

He apparently snaps out of his survey of the room. Shooting you a wince, rather than a smile. Oh god, he sure doesn’t know how to be polite when it came to interior design.

“It’s fine Darling.”

Liar.

Your eyebrows knot together in displeasure, he was pretty bad at hiding his distaste and it needled you a little. You felt a slight annoyance starting to brew in the back of your mind, you tried to dry it out with your mind, tried to explain to yourself that you would also feel disgusted if one of your friends lived in such dirty surroundings. It didn’t help much.

You mumble under your breath; “…Working an irregular night-job doesn’t help with managing my time.”

However, before Mettaton registers it, you’ve already started to push him outside, locking the door and began the fast descent down the stairs. He started to follow you, still silent, probably dissing your house in his head. You turn around when you reach the bottom of the stairs, trying not to show any kind of emotion on your face, thanking him for taking you there.

“Really Mettaton, I won’t have to risk getting late now. So thanks.” You manage a slight genuine smile at the end of the sentence, well, somewhat genuine.

“But Sweetie, wouldn’t you also like a ride to work as well?”

“No it’s alright Mettaton, I’m sure that you’re also needed at work soon.”

He looks like a kicked puppy, aw. But your decision was firm, you felt kind of drained after the negative feedback you got from him about your home and didn’t want to deal with any issues that might appear if he showed up at your workplace.

Well, snobby taste or no, he was still your friend and you didn’t want to create any cracks in that relationship. While he was still bent forward, you reached up and hugged him around his neck. It didn’t take long before he also returned the embrace.

“Thanks Mettaton.”

“My pleasure Darling.”

With that, the two of you parted ways, both going to work on your jobs. You jogging to the club, and him riding away. You did manage to get there in time, though only just.

Tonight was just like many others, you working as the bouncer outside of the door, keeping troublemakers away kept you plenty busy. Early in the morning, you’re trying to coax a drunk to leave the club. Just as you finally think you’ve gotten the drunk bastard out of the way, his elbow flies up to hit you in the eye, undoubtedly making it bruise. So much for pleasantries, you have the guy on the ground within half a second and by twisting his arm just a little in the wrong direction to get him to promise to not show up in your halved sight in the immediate future.

After that the boss gives you the remaining two hours off, still paid though, so you could nurse your poor eye. You sit in the backroom for one hour with an icebag pressed against the sore lid, before you decide that nursing it at home would be just as efficient.

When you’re walking home, you receive a picture from Mettaton. He was taking it just as he finished up with his late-night show, standing in his dressing room. His caption was as following; ‘You should have seen the outfit on the loon they invited tonight!’ Hah, nothing but a perfect outfit would satisfy the superstar.

You took a nice picture of yourself in the mirror captioning it ‘You should have seen the goon who gave me this, then we’re talking bad style!’ You thought it would be funny, seeing as your eye was shut and a red-blueish bruise was starting to grow from the edge of the lid.

Apparently, Mettaton didn’t think it was any sort of humorous.

Since he’s calling you like two seconds after you sent the picture.

And his voice is _really_ angry once you pick up.

“Who did this to you?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't feel like writing another chapter today, but I powered through it for you guys! (/*A*)/
> 
> Just to warn you all, I probably won't be posting friday->sunday since I won't have my computer with me and thus don't have any tools to write besides from my phone, which I don't like writing long stories on tbh. 
> 
> But worry not, there will be a chapter tomorrow, and after that I'll start directing this story onto an upcoming act. So look forward to that!!!!


	15. Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Startling your friend by showing off your bruise was probably one of your worst decisions yet.

When you hear the yell ring through the phone, you thought that maybe sending him the picture hadn’t been the best of ideas. You could hear static carry through the phone, like the program supposed to carry his voice in the phone is being interfered by something. You keep the device at an arms length, knowing what’ll happen when you answer his furious question.

“…Just a drunk at the club… No biggie?”

“No issue?! Sweet Darling, your eye it so bruised that you can’t even open it!”

Hooo boy, he is not just mad, he’s _extremely_ mad. You’re glad that you kept the phone away from your poor ear, you could hear him roar just fine from this distance.

“This is outrageous! Who was the guy?! I’ll sue him for assault!”

“No, no, no. No, you are not going to destroy that poor sod’s life just because he made a bad decision.”

“A ‘Bad decision’, Please do not tell me that you’ve had this happen to you before?!” 

Erhm, yeah. Actually stuff’s been a lot worse before, but you don’t want to risk angering him further by telling him of those incidents. But silence won’t help calm down the robot.

“Uhm…”

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” Fuck. He’s already too good at reading you.

“…Look Mettaton, it’s a risk that follow the job.”

“Then quit that horrid job!” Alright, you’ve heard this one before. He’s just a bit too agitated to realize what he’s saying, like quitting would make your life any easier. You’ll try to reason with him, since you’ve been through this discussion before.

“Mettaton-“

“No Darling, do not try to lightly brush this off. I’m coming over.”

“What?! No, Mettaton you don’t have-“ You try to intervene, only to be met with the beep of the call getting cut.

He just hung up on you. He’s on his way and he just left you hanging. You stand still, stunned for a moment, before you realize that he was most likely already on his way. Yeah ok, nope. You really don’t want him to come, fussing about a hazard that you’ve always known was included in your line of work. To be entirely honest you didn’t really feel up to meeting anyone right now, since your eye was still hurting and you were really tired. Well, you might as well tidy up the living room a little, so that Mettaton wouldn’t have to stand in the doorway because of shock again.

You manage to vacuum and clean the kitchen a little, when you hear the insistent knock on your door. Grabbing the icebag again, you walk over to let the agitated star inside. He’s not dressed up this time around, and you’re slightly surprised to find that even his hair looks a little disheveled.

“Darling I swear!” He says as he strides in.

When you close the door behind him, and turn around to see where he’d gone, you find that a strong hand grasps your wrist on the hand that was busy keeping the icebag in place and removes it from the sore area. Mettaton is bent forward, as to examine the bruise and you can hear that his fans are whirring hurriedly within his chest. He seems more worried than mad though, he even takes a sharp intake of breath as he makes you turn your face so the light’s better. Maybe your eye was in a worse shape than you’d originally thought.

He leads you over to sit on the couch while he kneels in front of you, keeping a hand on your chin as to allow him to see the full damage.

“Oh Sweetie, that looks horrid! How come you can’t feel it?”

You gesture to the icebag. “Cooled skin doesn’t really feel pain, I think I forgot to tell you about human ways to minimize pain.”

Mettaton bites his lip, as he reaches up to press to of his fingers onto the lid of your poor eye. Immideately, there’s a sharp pain spiking in through your head, you quickly swat his fingers away as you bowl forward to cup your hurting head.

“O-Okay I take it back. Don’t touch it and it won’t hurt. That did hurt… a lot…”

You hear his voice from above you, he’s a bit more calm now. “I’m sorry sweetie, but since my magic is slightly unstable, I wouldn’t want to use too much if I’m going to fix this up.”

Wait a minute, he was going to try and fix it. Like he fixed your nose that time at the club? It would be nice to be able to see out of both eyes again. But if he wasn’t comfortable using magic to fix stuff up, you could find your way around with only half the range of vision. You’re still bent over, since the pain had yet to subside, but still try to argue that he shouldn’t push himself.

“M-Mettaton… It’s really ok. Or more like, I’ll be ok. It’s not like I’m going blind and it will probably begin to disappear after a few more days.”

“No Darling.” He gently makes you lift your head from your hands, cupping your cheeks, he makes sure that you’re paying attention to what he’s saying. “There is no way that I’ll let you walk around like this, I’ll fix it.”

“Are you sure? You just said that there’s a risk involved.”

“Ah that, it’s not a risk for me per se. More a risk of me accidentally changing some part of you into something that’s similar to mine, as a sort of side effect.” He bites his lip again, undoubtedly thinking about something again. When he looks back up, his eyes are glowing. “But I won’t let it happen.”

He leans up towards you, silently seeking your permission to continue. You give a slight nod, and he proceeds very gently to press his lips onto your eyelid.

Again, you feel something tingle over your skin, right before something that is undoubtedly magic seeps into your flesh around the offended area. You tense slightly from the foreign sensation, but Mettaton keeps your head still as he continues to heal your eye. It’s more intense compared to last time, your hands reach up to gasp onto his arms as something to anchor you. While you can feel an electrical tingle spreading throughout your body, maybe he had been applying a little bit too much of his magic.

When he finally removed his lips from your skin, the staticy awareness stuck, mostly focused in your newly healed eye.

Mettaton almost collapses forward onto you, yup, he definitely overdid it. But catches himself with one shaky arm so that he didn’t end up pinning you to the couch with his weight, instead it slowly gives in, and his head ends up in your lap.

“Mettaton?!”

“I’m quite fine Darling, don’t mind me.”

“…It’s kind of hard when you’re on top of my legs you know.”

“Sorry Sweetie, I’ll move as soon as I can make my body listen.”

While you’re staring down at him with your good eye, you slowly try and crack open the other one. Only to find, everything within it’s sight is now has a pink hue over it. Oh my, seems like the side effect he mentioned. You however, don’t mind that much, since you could see again.

But you might want to check up with the robot and hear if it’s anything permanent. Alternatively, if anything else besides the hue of color your eye register might’ve changed, you also wanted to know.

“Mettaton?”

“Yes Darling?”

“Can you move now?”

“Slowly, but yes. Is there an issue with your eye still?”

“No, well kind of- I’m not too sure.”

That makes him rise from the comfort of your lap, slowly, like he had to use all of his will to make his body obey. When his eyes meet yours, he stares tiredly at you for a second, before he apparently sees something. Sheer panic and guilt is reflected in his features, as he reaches out to grab your face again.

“ _Shit!_ ”

Oh god, what’s wrong. Did he turn your eyeball into metal or something like that? Please no, that would be a bother to hide. Well, it would also be kind of cool of you were going to be entirely honest.

Leave your mindful dreaming of becoming a cyborg you! Can’t you see that Mettaton is panicking?! You place your hands over his, rubbing your thumbs in circles over the metal.

“You need to tell me what’s wrong Mettaton, is it the ‘side effect’ you talked about?” His eyes are darting all over your face, probably searching for any other changes in your appearance.

“I- er-….Yes, it is result of the very same risk that I wished to avoid.”

“What changed? I know that I can only see things in pink on the eye you healed. But what else looks different?”

He’s biting his lip, likely thinking about how best to word whatever your eye changed to. Oh no, he looks so worried, even though he just wanted to help.

“Mettaton, just say it. It can’t be much worse than how it looked like before.” You’re smiling at him and he adverts his gaze, a guiltily gesture and you release one of his hands to reach over and place yours on his cheek. You want him to look at you, and see that you’re not mad. Which you really aren’t considering that he’d gone out of his way to heal you, despite the him being too exhausted to move afterwards.

“I’m sorry Sweetie… It’s… Your iris has turned the same color as mine, and your whites have turned to black.”

Oh, all right. That’s slightly disturbing. You feel like you’ve turned into some bad rendition of terminator if what he says is true, wow uhm. What could you say to comfort your poor hysterical friend, that it’s no big issue that he accidentally made the whole appearance issue a bit more complicated?

Well for starters, you might want to drag him somewhere he could rest, the poor guy looks beat.

You sigh, nuzzling your face into the palm of one of his hands. It’s warm, soft and smells of light perfume, basically, it makes you realize how tired you are.

“We can tackle this tomorrow. For now, you need to recharge somehow.”

“But Darling-“ You shoosh him, making his argument fall silent on his lips.

“No, Not now. Tomorrow.”

You manage to coax him to accept being transferred from the couch to the bed, with him showing you how he recharges, it was via a small handy outlet on the side of his neck. You plug it in and get yourself ready for bed.

When you lay down in your cramped bed, you see that he’s already asleep. Only the gentle whirring of his fans giving away any sort of life hidden within all of his wires. You made sure to check it by pressing your face to his chest, confirming that he was indeed still working.

With that, it doesn’t take you long before you find yourself dozing off, listening to the slight humming emitting from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND we start the slight break here! Wow, what a dilemma!! Wonder what the two of them will do now? Hahaha! 
> 
> Okay it's late and I've actually managed to spit out another chapter that's close to 2000 words! what is happening?!
> 
> Anyways! I'll see you guys on monday! (OwO)


	16. Everyone likes pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe your sleepy self should've thought about your situation twice before this.

You’re awakened by the sound of something detaching itself from an outlet or something like that, your tired mind just passes it off as your little handy cleaningrobot mucking something up again when starting up. Nevertheless, when you feel something press against your hip and lower back, your weary eyes slowly creak themselves open. Half your vision is pink, which your mind isn’t really registering before you see a handsome face in front of yours. Mettaton’s hair is ruffled and his eyes are on your face. He still looks a little tired, but that might be because he’s not 100% dressed up as he usually would.

Wait, why’s he in your bed? You squint at him, trying to dig an answer out of your hazy memory. Let’s see, ruffian, healing, pinkeye, bed, _right_. Speaking of the pinkeye, you tentatively reach up to press a finger against your lid, feeling no pain whatsoever.

Satisfied with the whole outcome of the situation, even if the oddity of it all did land you with a pink version of the terminator’s eye and a superstar in your bed. Who’s actually still just staring at you, smiling slightly. When he speaks, his voice actually comes out from the speakers on his chest. Hm, maybe he was feeling lazy and didn’t want to switch to the other voicebox.

“Seems like you’re awake. Do all humans look as satisfied when sleeping?”

Uh. What can you say to this, you’ve never really slept less than others because you valued your rest and most of the time it would be your partner who’s rudely, or gently shaking you awake.

“…I don’t know? We usually sleep at the same time.”

He hums, and you can feel his arms tightening slightly around you, that would be what you felt on your hip earlier. You’re pressed slightly against his chest and you surprisingly don’t find it uncomfortable, though you don’t like it when you can’t really see who you’re talking to. So you scoot a little bit back, just putting enough distance between the two of you so you can see him again.

You still don’t feel completely awake and you just spend a few seconds staring at Mettaton. Meeting his eyes, you admire the craft-work that went into the details of his face. You’re surprised when he’s the first one to look away, a slight increase in the activity of his fans and a faint discoloring oh his face gives away that he’s embarrassed. But why?

Oh. You’re half-naked. In the same bed as Mettaton.

…

To say you recoil would put it mildly.

You literally _shoot_ yourself off the bed and onto the floor, your landing giving a small thud. You internally curse yourself for not noticing your situation earlier, oh god, you’d been obviously staring at him like a creep. This is not how you act towards your friends, or at the very least, that’s what your experience tells you when it comes to friendships.

You can hear Mettaton break into laughter from above you, you dare sit up on the floor and peek above the edge of the bed. He’s really laughing, it’s nothing loud or hysterical. But you can see him trying to muffle the sound by pressing his mouth to the back of his hand, his body is slightly shaking with each laugh escaping despite his best efforts. You are pretty sure that you’ve never seen him like this, it kinda makes the whole pain in your butt worth it.

“Hah- Oh my Darling, I’m sorry- Pfft-“ He breaks into another round of giggles as he sees you peek over the edge of the mattress, obviously flustered and nervous. You take that as a good sign, slowly positioning yourself back up on the bed, as to get off the cold floor. Your pink-hued sight of him like this calms you some, if he was like this he probably wasn’t offended by your ogling earlier.

However, when he doesn’t stop laughing after a while, you start to good-naturedly glare at him. It doesn’t help calming the superstar down, but when he sees that you’re not really amused by his reaction, he sits up and tires to ease up on the laughing. He coughs once, though you can still hear a smile in his voice as he starts talking.

“You should have seen it. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen anything as dramatic as _that,_ Darling!”

“Yeah, yeah. I freaked and managed to shoot my butt off of the bed, big deal.”

Oh god, you can see that he’s trying really hard not to laugh again at your sarcastic drawl.

“Pft- You didn’t need to shy away Sweetheart. It’s no big issue that you like my features, when everyone who’s watching my shows do.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed, thinking about what Mettaton was saying. You didn’t only watch his shows because he was attractive though, so you doubted that it wouldn’t be the same reason that many others did either. Did he really think that people only watched him because he was good looking? No, wait. He might be saying that everyone who’s watching him finds him hot.

“Well I don’t think that’s entirely true Mettaton, like some people might not find your specific look interesting or within their type. But instead just likes the content of your shows.”

Now Mettaton seems increasingly interested, not offended by the thought of not all finding him attractive as you feared, but just genuinely curious about it.

“What makes you say that?”

Hm, maybe he doesn’t really know that being interested in others might not be purely because of their looks. “Well, look at it this way. I might be interested in an actor of some kind right?” He nods, confirming that he’s listening. “And that might be well and all, but if the stuff he’s starring in makes me wince, it doesn’t matter if I think this person is hot or not, I’m not going to watch garbage just because of that. Likewise, there’s people that find your shows are good, even if you’re not their type.”

“And you?”

Uh. He might’ve just tricked you into this nice self-made trap, to make you admit if you thought he was attractive or not. Now, to neither confirm or deny would probably be the wisest choice.

“Well of course.” Your fucking dumb brain strikes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you guys know and have suffered over, I said that I was first going to post a chapter on monday right? 
> 
> Well mother-fucking guess what, I actually really felt like writing cough-notwantingtodomyhomeowrk-cough and managed to type out a chapter and a half just today!! Miracles!
> 
> So yeah, hope you guys like it!


	17. Tongue-tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you tell your friend that he's maybe extremely attractive and cute without making it awkward?

Here you’d hoped that recently you were able to keep your brain-to-mouth filter under strict control, but you apparently had permitted yourself to loosen that grasp when you felt comfortable. Somebody save you. You promptly remove your gaze from the star, feeling an embarrassed blush spread over your face.

You need to save this situation somehow.

“I-I mean like, sure. Your face i-is nice and ah-“ Just stop, just fucking stop _trying to explain it_. You’re only making it worse for yourself, and undoubtedly also a lot more awkward between the two of you.

Surprisingly, when you bite your tongue to keep yourself quiet and look back up at him, he’s still only displaying curiosity and interest. Okay, maybe he’s blushing a little, but it might just be your eye.

“Please Darling, I would love hearing your feedback.”

He really doesn’t work the same way as regular people, does he? Well since the human mentality about looks and how bragging is seen as a negative thing doesn’t apply to him, he might just only be genuinely interested to hear which parts of his body appeals to you.

As you contemplate it, he just sits there patiently and expectantly keeps his eyes locked onto you. It’s odd, in a way, it’s like he wants your opinion on a piece of clothing to hear if it looks good on him. Hm.  

Doesn’t mean it’s not embarrassing for you.

Well suck it up, because the guy looks like a puppy expecting a treat. A very cute puppy that really knew how to look adorable, even despite his face usually looked more aesthetically handsome than sweet. But he pulled it off to a point where you felt the need to reach out and give him a pat on the head. Barely preventing yourself from doing so, you tear your gaze away.

You fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt, still feeling embarrassed about your bare legs even though you were wearing a rather large shirt that helped cover up your frame. You could still feel your face burn from your earlier unfortunate choice of wording.

You bite your lip, wondering about how to describe this without you turning into an embarrassed mess and making him laugh again.

“Don’t laugh ok?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He seems serious, but you’re never sure when it comes to this hunk made of metal.

You did not just call him a hunk in your head, nope.

“Alright so, seriously don’t laugh, or else I’m not going to be able to speak to you ever again.” You point a shaky finger in his direction, making sure that he understood. He still just nods mutely, eagerly awaiting to hear your opinion. Somebody save you, you want to snuggle the robot right now.

Instead of listening to your inner desires, you start to speak.

“While your face is made of metal and wires and whatnot, I find that you’re really expressive, it’s unexpected but makes you seem more erhm-“ Do not lose the thread. “More-“ You make a noise in frustration. “Don’t judge me for this, but it makes you look more ‘human’. For the lack of a better word.” You shrug, adverting your gaze from his again. Now you’re mumbling under your breath, unsure. “You’re good looking of course. But that’s just one of the many things that make you… an amazing actor and person. At least in my opinion.”

Urrgh, those last words were hard to squeeze out. You can’t make yourself look up again.

However, it seems like you don’t get a choice, as Mettaton gently nudges your chin to make your eyes connect with his. You hadn’t noticed that he’d moved closer to you. Despite what you feared, he wasn’t laughing or even smiling. Instead, his eyes locked onto you displayed a deep affection that you’d never seen before.

He leans down, his eyes half lidded and you freeze.

“Thank you Darling.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. The slightly familiar electrifying static of magic on his lips, not as strong as the two other times, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

When he moves away, you don’t respond. You’re still stiff as a board, your brain not comprehending what he just did.

“Uhm. Sweetheart?” Right, moving, you can’t figure out how that works again. You feel like your circuits are fried, unresponsive, broken. What to do.

Finally, you manage to make your lips listen to you, though you’re not really able to find the right thing to say.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes?”

Are you now only capable of repeating ‘yes?’ like some broken record? Come on pull yourself together.

“W-well, I just erhm- …didn’t expect that?”

To that Mettaton only lets out a light chuckle, the intense look in his posture and eyes lightening. He moves back a little, covering his mouth with his hand as to mute the laugh that escaped him. The little sneak probably still remembered your order as for him not to start laughing, or you wouldn’t talk to him.

Can you only speak things in the form of a darn question? Argh, now you’re even doing it in your head! Stop it! You try to keep focusing on anything other, than the tingle that lingered on your skin. You could even feel your eye respond. You can feel a slight pressure applying itself, making it twitch.

Ow, it actually kind of hurts.

You grimace and press the palm of your hand to the eye in a futile attempt at quelling the slight pain. It’s not as bad as when it was damaged, but it sure is insistently not disappearing. Suddenly, the pain skyrocketed, causing you to tilt forward as your body instinctually bent down to protect itself.

You felt Mettaton’s hand place itself on your shoulder, anchoring you. “Darling? What’s the matter?”

And the pain is suddenly gone.

Uh. What?

You sit upright again, slowly removing your hand from your eye. Careful that the light might be what triggered the response you only open your eye an inch. Nope, no pain, still only the pinkish hue layering your view. Mettaton hadn’t removed his hand, still sitting worriedly in front of you.

What could’ve stopped the pain? There must’ve been some outside stimulus that affected the magic in your eye. Then you looked at Mettaton’s hand resting on your shoulder.

Oh no, you had a theory. But if it was true… then you were in a bad spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IM SORRY DARLINGS; There was no chapter yesterday!!! (;n;)
> 
> I just didn't have the usual time to write it. But here's your next one! on the house! Though I don't know if I'll be able to write another for today, you guys might have to wait until tomorrow. 
> 
> Moving on, I wonder what caused your eye to react hmmm?


	18. Necessary contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did this even happen?

You kept your eyes locked on the hand, the gears in your head running at the highest possible speed… Could it be?

 No other way to know than to test it you supposed. Keeping your gaze fixed on Mettaton, you gently pried away the hand on your shoulder, placing it down on the sheets you hesitated on letting it go. When you finally managed to break all physical contact with Mettaton, you prepare yourself for the pain.

It comes much faster than last time. Owwwww.

Within a minute, you’re down again hands cradling your head, as to try and protect it even If it didn’t change anything since the pain was internal. You don’t even notice when you whimpered, but the moment you do, Mettaton is pulling you close to him.

When the pain subsides again, you’re within Mettaton’s embrace. He’s worriedly staring down at you, seemingly also able to connect the dots.

“It’s the magic. Isn’t it Sweetheart?”

You nod mutely, not sure about what you should do. You started to panic a little, figuring that if close contact were what prevents the pain, then you would have to regularly touch the star. But that wouldn’t be possible, he had undoubtedly a busy schedule and couldn’t just keep on regularly meet up with you. He’s a star for gods sake, think of the fans, the… oh god, please no. It would attract the paparazzi in hoards. You despised those nosey journalists and stalkers that took every opportunity to snoop into celebrities lives, and tried to make every friend of said celebrity a cause for scandal.

You flinched as you could feel him squeeze you a little tighter, his head pressed into the crook of your neck. It’s weird, usually this kind of personal breach would’ve made you uncomfortable. But you just found that you didn’t mind all that much. He’s probably feeling guilty or something and the close contact seems like it helps him stay calm.

“Is is helping? Staying in contact?” he’s actually using his real mouth now instead of the speakers, you can feel his breath on your skin, it’s not uncomfortable per se, but it sure does give you goosebumps.

Well.

“…Yeah, but this isn’t something you need to bother about Mettaton. I’ll figure out something.”

Mettaton’s voice hardens a little “Not my position to worry you say. How is this not my fault?” Mettaton sighs, voice sounding like he’s on the verge of tears.

Shuffling a little closer, he’s now pressed flush against your back. Since his arms are looped around your shoulders, you can’t do much more than sit passively and place one of your hands on top of his. You can feel him tense up, and then force himself to relax under your touch.

Your other hand tentatively reaches up to run your fingers through Mettaton’s hair; it’s much softer than you thought it would be. You hum a tuneless melody, trying to assure him that you were alright.

“It’s not your fault, I said this earlier right? You only wanted to help me and stuff happens sometimes when you least expect it. You just have to make sure that it doesn’t get to you.”

“But what do I do when it gets to my friend?” Oh no, you suddenly understood. It’s not that he fucked up that bothers him the most, it’s that he fucked something up that ended up affecting _you._ Well, you supposed that you would also be feeling guilty if he’d gotten hurt at the cost of your actions.

While considering this, you can suddenly feel another round of magic spark through your skin from where he is in contact with it. You writher a little, still finding the sensation alien and odd.

Noticing your slight wriggling, Mettaton lifts his head from your shoulder and loosens his grasp around your form. His arms instead go down to wrap themselves around your waist, permitting you a little more flexibility and movement.

“What’s wrong now Darling?”

Huh? Hadn’t he been the one using magic?

“There’s nothing, I just-“ You lick your lips, trying to figure out how to say this. “I could just feel some magic between us.” Oh dear lord that sounded just as cheesy as you feared.

You can’t stop yourself from blushing a little, maybe you were just imagining the sensation, oh god that would’ve been embarrassing.

“Magic?”

Were you wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eurgh, I don't quite find that this chapter is up to the story's standards. Hope you guys'll like it anyways!


	19. Untouchable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How strong is he even?

Back up a minute, you need to investigate this before you start throwing theories. “Wait, you couldn’t feel that?”

Now it’s Mettaton’s turn to look perplexed, staring worriedly at you like you’ve just told him that you’ve become a superstar yourself. “No Darling, I wasn’t applying any sort of magic. I wouldn’t want to risk changing anything further than I’ve already done.”

That’s odd, you certainly could feel magic. Or something that was similar to magic, travel between the points where Mettaton is in contact with your skin. You stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if this was some kind of joke, but when he only looked completely confused and worried about the risk of any uncontrolled magic being released from him might hurt you. Well, then there must be some other explanation to be heard then.

You wondered if you knew anyone that might be able to explain it, but came up blank. Well most people you knew weren’t really any sort of interested in researching the properties of magic, so it wasn’t really a big surprise.

Hm, maybe you should just let the idea be, pretend that it might just be you imagining it. Deal with it some other time if it proved to be anything dangerous or something like that, for now, you didn’t want to distress Mettaton even further.

“Never mind, I must’ve imagined it.” You shoot him a reassuring smile, telling him to forget your comment. Even if you could still feel the tingle settle on your skin under his palm that is pressed against you.

He pouts a little, clearly not believing you. Nevertheless, he leaves the subject alone and you can feel that he is less distressed than before. Good.

You poke his arm. “Well since I can’t stay glued to your side at all times, I guess that I just have to get used to the pain soon.” You tried to make it sound like a joke, even if you expected that it would be a literal pain to deal with. However the worry he might feel for you, his work must come first, so you should be able to convince him to release you soon. But when you comment on it, he tenses, drawing you closer.

“No.”

Guess he took that very we- wait- ‘no’?

“What do you mean no? We can’t stay close to each other all day, both you and I have work to do.” You try to break free from his hold, so that you could turn around and face him proper for this upcoming argument. But he relentlessly keeps you within his embrace, apparently not permitting you to actually risk hurting again, despite his good intentions it just ticks you off. Did he think that you couldn’t handle a few bruises hurting?

“Mettaton! Let go!”

“No Darling!”

“What is your deal? I can handle this.” You try and push his arms away, though it’s futile, he’s a fricking robot for crying out loud.

“You shouldn’t have to. I will take responsibility for this!”

You freeze at that, who’s he to say that, he’s the superstar. “You have already something bigger you should worry about. Just-“ His hand press against your mouth, silencing you.

“If you were about to say that my job or my fans are more worth than you. You’re wrong sweetheart. Our relationship is worth more than that.”

You manage to push the hand away, angrily fighting against the hold that had felt so comforting a few minutes prior. “What relationship Mettaton? We’ve maybe know each other for only a couple of weeks and that’s it!”

“That’s it?”

“Yes!”

 “Of all the things you think determines the value of a connection, you say that it’s _time_?!” He sounds hurt, like you finding yourself in a close relationship within a few weeks of meeting each other wasn’t possible.

You didn’t mean it like that, it’s just not something you favor. Getting close to others without really knowing them for a good while. The experiences you have with quickly built relationships, proved that they fall apart just as fast as they can be made.  

“N-No Mettaton, it’s just-“

“Just _what_?” His voice is getting deeper and the temperature you can feel against your back is rising a little.

“Can’t you just leave this be?”

“No because you’re lying to me. I can see that you’re in pain, and the magic in your eye is being rejected by your body and it needs a stimulus. One that I can provide and I am gods besotted not going to leave you be if you’re going to be in agony the very moment I let go of you!”

Okay he’s really mad, you fear that if you turn around what his face will be looking like. Probably pretty dang pissed.  

You stay quiet, not sure how to reply. Listening to the whirring of his fans, you almost fear that he’s going to blow a fuse or overheat or something like that. For the first time, you think that he’s actually a little frightening. For the first time, you think of his enormous strength he possess as a monster. You’re honestly a little scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha... I just keep coming up with new ideas and dumb headcanons, somebody stop me because I need to get to the point of this arc. (._.)
> 
> Anyways hope you guys enjoy!!!


	20. Tales of-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You realize that you didn't know Mettaton as well as you thought.

You hear his strained breath behind you, like he was trying his best not to flip or do anything he might regret. Fear starts to make you shake, his voice, his strength, the sudden intensity in his actions and speech. It scared you. _He_ scared you. It was too much right now, you wanted to distance yourself.

“Mettaton let go of me.” You try and force your voice to be calm, not to give away your sudden panic.

“I won’t.”

“Mettaton _please.”_ You’re getting upset, it was rarely that you were permitted to feel scared, usually you could defend yourself if something was threatening you. But you were not supposed to be scared of your friend, you couldn’t just break free from this and run.

You can feel tears press at the corners of your eyes, this was pressing too far into your comfort zone. A shaky breath goes through your body in the form of a sob. Again, you tried to push away from Mettaton, and once again, it was a futile action.

“Darling, don’t let me leave you like this. I won’t have it happen again-“ Wait, who’s he talking about now?

“W-wait Mettaton, what are you talking about?” shit, he can hear the tremble in your voice. You should’ve stayed quiet.

“Darling?! Shit, am I scaring you?” Suddenly his arms loosen and you turn around to face him, he’s still fuming a little, but most of it is gone by the time he sees that you’re upset. His hand reaches up to wipe away a stray tear. “Oh no, Sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” He removes his hands completely from your frame and leans back onto his elbows, so he’s not towering over you anymore.

You quickly reach up to rub your face, trying to remove all traces of tears. “No no, I’m fine.” The pain has yet to return since you are still touching his leg, one hand resting on the cool metal. “See? Still fine, no pain what so ever.” He’s still frowning, but now it’s your turn to be worried, especially considering what he said earlier… ‘again’… Did he leave somebody behind before?

You hesitantly lean over to stroke away a few strands of hairs in front of his eyes. “Mettaton… Are you… Did you do something before?”

He knows what you’re referring to. His desperate plea for you not to make him leave you, not letting him abandon you in pain. He wanted you to cling to him, rely on him and let him be there for you.

Why?

He sighs, “I-I’m not sure if… Do you know anything about my time in the underground Darling?” You shook your head, most of the stuff you’d heard about him was all from after he descended to the surface. You didn’t even know how he started out his career underground.

He reaches up to run his fingers gently through your hair, seemingly not really conscious of what he was doing, as he repeated the motion. He is probably trying to force out some unpleasant memories, you should just let him do it for now, until he’s able to speak again.

When he does, he turns away his gaze from you, something he’d never really done before. He looks ashamed, like he felt guilty over what he was going to tell you.

“It’s something I still regret to this day.” His voice is shaky, you can feel a knot of worry settle in your stomach. “I- When I first rose to stardom, I grasped the chance to increase my popularity by almost constantly working and never looked back at my life from before… or the people I’d abandoned there.”

He looks back at you, and you only barely manage to resist wrapping your arms around him again. But he needs to tell this story and you didn’t know if I’d make him unable to continue.

“I had- Have a cousin. You’ve probably heard of them… Napstablook.” You nodded, recognizing the name of the popular musician, they’d just recently started to sell their music online and their popularity had been soaring.

You worriedly look at Mettaton, able to vaguely connect some of the threads. “You mean?”

He sighs, confirming your slight suspicion. His voice is uneasy and you can hear that he’s close to crying. “I left them, all alone for _years.”_ Leaning forward, he grasps your hand in his, certain that he has your full attention. “I abandoned them, not even giving it a second thought, and they were hurting. They were hurting so badly and I didn’t even take the time of the day to pay them a single visit when they were only a few hundred meters away.” You can see tears, and with your free hand you cautiously wipe one of them away. He flinches slightly, probably not noticing that he was leaking. “I ah- I left them, but they still continued to cheer for me.”

He sniffles “ _Me_ , like I still deserved their love. Not like the fucking emotionless bastard that I’d become.” When you hesitantly continue to remove the glittery tears, he presses his face against your palm. “I…I won’t go into details of what conspired after, it’s a longer tale than I feel like telling right now.” You nod, understanding.

“So, when you wanted me to leave you be, I suppose it clicked the wrong way for me darling. I was afraid… Afraid of leaving you in pain, just as I left Blooky.” Tears are still trickling down his cheeks, slightly soaking your sleeve as you fruitlessly wipe them away.

Mettaton closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I’m _sorry_ Sweetheart. For reacting the way I did and frightening you.” He exhales slowly after that, seemingly done with his tale.

You didn’t know what to say, should you even say anything at all? It’s all a little overwhelming, hearing about his intense regrets like this, you didn’t feel like you deserved to see him like this. Not yet anyway, he didn’t even know much about you and you weren’t sure about telling your own tale anytime soon.

But he just trusted you? A few short weeks and he already believed in you enough to trust you, enough to not think that you could sell this to the paparazzi.

However hesitant he must’ve been telling you this, you could see relief in his features from saying it.

You flushed at his relaxed appearance, just because you’d come back to that sodden club in your stupid hopes to see him again you’d managed to get such a great companion. Adverting your eyes from his, you accept his apology. “’t’s fine Mettaton.”

“Thank you Sweetheart.” He didn’t press you, it was a relief.

Before you can register it, he’s got you wrapped up in another embrace. Wow, you’d really been getting close to this guy quickly, other humans you’d kicked in the crotch for less intimate acts towards you.

But this felt comfortable, despite him being made of metal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to announce this darlings, even with the chapter a day late I must admit that Fluorescent Lights will be going on a one-week hiatus. I need some time to catch up on my other fics and I find that I've been rushing these last chapters too much and I truly regret that. 
> 
> So enjoy this chapter and stay strong sweeties!!!!
> 
> Edit: I FUCKED UP NAPSTABLOOKS PRONOUNS IM SORRY THEY'RE FIXED NOW


	21. What a bright, wait.

Okay maybe you had gotten a little too comfortable with this guy, a little too fast. But your stupid empathetic mind didn’t permit yourself to break away from him, especially with how shaken he’d been just a few minutes prior.

But at the same time, your stomach was starting to demand your immediate attention. Growling rather loudly, which made you flush and fumble for an apology as Mettaton just laughed and apologized for keeping you in bed for so long. You didn’t know how to take this whole situation in, but eating sounded like a good start.

Why yes, you are practically starving. So breakfast would be ideal for you and your large friend to sit and come to an agreement on this whole situation.

He unwound his arms from your middle, but kept his hand on your shoulder as both of you stood, but when you needed to head off into the kitchen, his hand nearly slipped off and he accidentally used his strength to hold you back, which resulted in you almost tumbling to the floor and risking further injury.

Well, something certainly needs to be improved.

Biting down your nerves, you grasp onto Mettaton’s hand instead, so while leading him into your small kitchen you wouldn’t risk him pulling you down onto the titled floor, any sort of incident similar to the one in the bedroom would result in you needing another round of healing. So you didn’t want to take any further risks.

You were luckily still well-stocked with your cupboards and fridge, leaving you a nice number of available things to make for breakfast for you and your metallic friend. Maybe a display of your culinary skills could coax him into letting you deal with the whole eye-situation yourself.

Yeah, ok. That would be like a one in a million chance, you’re talking about the cook who’s got one of the most watched cooking shows on live TV. Who also, unfortunately, possess a stubbornness similar to that of a donkey. Pft- Donkey, really? More like a rock that won’t move no matter how hard you push. It seems to describe him a little better. Especially since the weight is relative.

You really need to stop having an ongoing monologue going when you’re supposed to be present.

Like, right now.

Because Mettaton is staring oddly at you since you have yet to make a move after you took his hand. You snap out of your stupor and ignore the way he’s eyeing you (you can tell that he’s mentally laughing at you), and you just ignore in favor of striding into the kitchen while pretending that you hadn’t actually just been lost in thought while staring at him. Nope, not the case at all, no sir.

You came up with an excuse. “I was wondering… Is there anything you can’t eat?”

He purses his lips for a moment, probably contemplating if he should believe your silly dodge but actually just answers instead of teasing you. Bless. “No Darling, I’m able to consume mostly anything since my internal processors just burn it for energy. Most liquids I use for cooling so that’s no issue either.”

Oh right, he’d been eating some soup at the restaurant, that makes a lot of sense actually.

With his hand still intertwined with yours, you go over to the fridge and fish out one of your leftover pizza pieces from a few days back. Cooking anything complex would demand you to have two fully functioning hands, and you already knew that Mettaton would either deny your need to have both of them free or he would insist on snuggling close to you while you did. Which you to be entirely honest aren’t completely comfortable with.

So pizza it is.

You turn on the oven and Mettaton helps you open it so you can smack the pieces in there without having to burn your hands touching the door of your ancient piece of scrap. Mettaton even eyes it curiously as you tell him that it would take at least half an hour before your fossil of an oven will be able to heat it.

He apparently took that as a hint that while both of your were waiting, that you should snuggle on the couch. Because before you realize it, his free arm is wound around your middle and he’s lifting you off the floor, much to your dismay.

“Mettaton!” You try to sound stern, but at the same time you know that you’re smiling like an idiot. “Put me down. There’s nothing wrong with my legs!”

He’s also grinning, the dork. “Why Sweetheart, that wouldn’t be fun now would it?”

You playfully try to whack him, missing since his hand is still holding one of yours, and the stupid robot easily dodges your free hand. You’re happy that he’d not hung up about the earlier little incident, so you let go of the slight breach of your physical comfort and permit him to place you on top of his chest as he lays down onto his back on your couch. You can hear him hum as he shifts a little to place you better so and he can look at you a little better. His arms are still loosely wrapped around your middle and your legs are slightly tangled with his. 

He purses his lips a little. “Now that I think about it Darling, we never did get any further with getting to know each other. Want to play another round?”

You think it over, well he knows most stuff by now in any case. “Sure. Do you want to start?”

“Very well then Darling.” He quiets for a moment, clearly thinking about what he should ask. “You mentioned your job sometimes has two sides of it, what did you mean Darling?”

You think it over for a moment, you might’ve mentioned it once or twice. “Yeah sure, like the bouncer gig is what I do most of the time. But when one of the Dj’s need it I’ll act as a background dancer for some of the larger shows.”

“Hmmm~ well your turn then darling.” He purrs, motherfucking purrs. You sometimes ask yourself if he can sound any more exotic, and you’re pretty damn sure that sound was pretty damn close to being _illegal_. His voice had dropped an octave as he did, and his fangs were visible.

Oh god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, need to get back into this again!


	22. Version II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RIP

Your mind slightly blanches at the oddly embarrassing sound that you just heard from your companion, alright, that’s a thing, he can apparently make all kinds of noises… wait that sounded wrong even in your head.

You cough awkwardly for a second before deciding on a somewhat non-suggestive question. “So, uhm. Do you have both vocal stuff in your throat and your chest?”

His reply is thankfully innocent “Indeed Darling. The one in my throat was installed later, just after we ascended to the surface. Alphys made it so that I would be more of a ‘person’ and less a machine.”

Well that did make sense, in a sort of humans-really-are-dicks-towards-anything-nonhuman way.

Mettaton then continues your little game, and you find that his voice is actually really relaxing. “So Sweetheart, what are your favorite kinds of music?”

“Oh, well…” You bite your lip for a moment as you considered it. “I honestly am generally interested in most stuff, like my favorites vary a lot and generally is just the stuff I enjoy dancing to the most…” You pause for a second, a little hesitant about the last bit that you hadn’t mentioned. “…Actually, some of the stuff that your cousin makes is often the stuff I listen to at home.”

Mettaton hums approvingly, and you can feel his hands shift slightly on your back, one ending up stroking the hairs in the nape of your neck. It’s still a little bit out of your comfortzone, but you permit it since his synthesized fingers are soft to the touch and feel heavenly brushing through your hair.

“Darling? It’s your turn.”

To your credit you didn’t startle as his voice snaps you out of your comfortable state, instead just closing your eyes while you try to think of another question.

Heh, why not go with the basics? “What is your favorite color Mettaton?”

“Really Sweetheart? Nothing more creative comes to mind?”

To that you just decide to rest your head down on your hands, cracking up one eye to look at him from your placement on top of his chest.

“Alright alright, I see I cannot make you make the effort to actually ask a validated question.” Despite his acting, Mettaton wasn’t really that convincing in his attempt at sounding disappointed, so you just kept quiet and stared lazily down at him.

“Fine, It’s Pink, happy?”

Well your suspicion had been confirmed, so he wasn’t off with that assessment. “Very.”

He boops your nose with his other hand as you close your eyes again. “Hey now, no falling asleep again. I still have questions.”

“Then shoot, I’ll try not to snooze.”

You can see that he’s pouting, obviously finding It rude that you would rather sleep some more than talk to him, even more since you’d almost just woken up. You crack a small grin at him, making sure to poke fun a little fun at him.

He ‘hmph’s, but still continues his barrage of questions. “What would be your ideal lifestyle?”

You hum appreciatively as his hand resumes it’s movements. “I dunno, probably living by dancing would be pretty neat. But I’m alright happy with what I’ve got.” Oh gosh his fingers are really gentle, this is really nice. “Do you have any fears?”

Mettaton thinks about that for a moment, beginning to trace shapes with his other hand in the dip of your back. “Since my body is mostly self-functioning, even if it runs low on power there’s no chance of it breaking down I would say… Loneliness.”

You slowly nod, understanding, but not prying. “It’s easy to feel alone in a crowd Mettaton.”

“Indeed it is, now, how many years have you danced?”

“Since I was a kid, first really started to tune it more in these recent years though. I don’t really dance professionally, maybe except for the occasional gig but nothing more than that.” But by the time you find yourself starting to reflect back on your past, a slight smell of something burning cross your nostrils.

Ah crud.

You lift yourself up from Mettatons comfortable hold, to peer over the back of the couch into the kitchen. Confirming your suspicions, your ancient oven seemingly finally decided to kick the bucket.

Unwillingly, you move away from the comfort of Mettatons embrace to pad over and see if the pizza just maybe survived the tragic death of your oven. Upon opening the stubborn dead thing, you saw that your pizza had been burnt to a crisp. Just lovely.

Now what were you going to munch on?

As you sadly stared into the depths of what had surely once been a fully functional oven, Mettaton sauntered over to sit by your side.

“Well that’s a problem.”

You scoff half-heartedly. “No kidding, there goes my original plan for brunch.”

As Mettaton peers into the oven, you can see him wince at the state your poor pizza was in. “Why don’t we go out and eat somewhere? I’ll pay.”

While the suggestion was nice, you simply didn’t feel like making an actual effort to dress up for going outside. “I dunno Mettaton.” Oh right, there is also the issue with your eye. Should you maybe invest in an eyepatch or something else to cover it, just to be safe? “Not really in the mood to see the world today.”

“Really Darling?” You ‘mhm’ed at him, pointing with one hand at your pinked eye. You can see him flinch at the realization, undoubtedly still feeling guilty about that.

To reassure him, you add. “I just don’t really have anything to cover it with.”

But both of you did need to eat _something,_ so what to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suddenly have an odd need to change this into an Mettaton/Reader/Napstablook fic, but how would I even manage that if blooky hasn't even been introduced yet???
> 
> welp, in any case. If any of you guys wanna bug me, you can find me here -> http://costumebleh.tumblr.com/


	23. Set, Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pizza.

The next moment you recall that there’s something called ‘takeout’ and feel like bashing your head into the nearest wall. You really need to stop seeing more problems than there already is.

You then proceed to look around for your phone, pointedly recalling that you probably left it somewhere in the bedroom, you don’t really feel like going back for it. You spin on your heel to look at Mettaton.

He looks down expectantly at you. Most likely guessing what you are thinking.

You shoot him a cheesy grin. “Wanna order some takeout instead?”

He nods reassuringly “Sure thing darling, Chinese or will you give pizza another try?” Oh, being a little sassy now are we? Well, you’ll show him that two can play that game.

You put on a mock-mask of how he usually looks when he’s faced with a choice of some sort, hand placed on forehead and closing your eyes, you purse your lips in thought. “Oh I cannot phantom how I can be betrayed twice when it comes to pizza.”

You can hear a snort coming from the robot. “Alright Darling, any specific kind?”

Still holding the pose, you answer. “Why normal pepperoni sounds just _divine_!”

You’re teasing him, bigtime. It’s fun.

And you’re suddenly forced to straighten up again as Mettaton pokes one of his fingers in your side, forcing you to double over, because that spot was definitely ticklish and you didn’t want any risk of him actually finding that out.

But of fucking course he notices. You can clearly hear a smirk in his voice as he replies. “Sure thing Sweetheart, Pizza it is.” You’ll need to keep an eye out for any incoming attacks later.

When you manage to regain your composition, you see that Mettaton is staring absentmindedly, probably talking to the pizza place and giving them your order. It’s weird that he is able to do that without speaking out loud, like, not gross or anything but just a bit different.

Well different or not, it sure is nice that you’re walking around with a person that has literally a phone built into him. Very practical.

While both of your are still situated in front of your dead oven, you’d much rather resume your comfortable position on the couch, instead of having your butt placed on your linoleum-tiled flooring.  

So without speaking, you stand up and reach out to grasp Mettaton’s hand. Pulling slightly on it, you motion for both of you to return to the couch. It takes a minute before his eyes re-focus on you, but you just guess that’s because he’s concentrating on not being rude to whoever might be at the other end of the receiver by not paying attention.

You wonder for a brief moment, how did you manage to sit as long as you did without getting hurt when you weren’t in contact with Mettaton? Perhaps it has something to do with how much attention you’re paying to it. That would certainly help if you were going to manage being a fully functional adult again, without being in constant pain nor having to drag the robot with you at all times.

Hm. Food for thought.

You lead Mettaton over onto the couch, not resuming the position you held before, you instead prompted to leaning up against him, while he was still concentrating.

A couple more minutes pass and Mettaton finally manages to finish the order, maybe the guy at the other end of the receive was new or something because that took a _long_ time. Atleast compared to the few minutes it would usually take you.

Your suspicions are confirmed when Mettaton speaks again. “That was such a pain Darling, it was some trainee that couldn’t even figure out the full details of how to receive an order. Such a bore.”

Hearing this, you can’t help but let out a small laugh. Just because Mettaton sounds so offended, being received with the exact opposite of the best. Well alright, you might’ve gotten pissed off once a twice yourself when you’ve been situated with some asshole taking your order, but you could never really get mad at newbies, just because they actually always did try to get it right, even if they royally screwed up.

You tap Mettaton on his chest, asking about the phone he’s got installed and if he even needs the portable version at all if he already has one. To which he promptly replies that the only real reason that he needs another one is because he uses it to take selfies and so that he dumps all of the unwanted numbers on that thing.

Wait, so ever since that first day he’s been trusting you enough to give you his real number? Wow. That’s kind of amazing in a way, that he saw enough just those two nights to decide that you were worth the trouble. Oh my gosh.

Okay thinking about it actually makes you blush a little and you fan yourself to make the persistent mechanism disappear. You’ll try and lead Mettatons attention elsewhere. “So, the phonenumber that was released by one of your fans a few years back, it was that other one?”

He bites his lip at this and you can feel yourself blush a little heavier as your eyes can’t help but trace the movement. “Luckily yes Sweetheart. I was fortunate enough, to have chosen only to give them the number that I could easily change afterwards. If it had been the one inside of me.” He points at his chest at this. “there would have been the risk of both a constant spamming of messages, which would result in the device installed in me to go into overdrive and probably fry my processors, a pricey process. Or else somebody would try and hack into me, which is a very frightening and dangerous thing.” Mettaton visibly shivered at this, despite not really being able to feel any sort of cold.

You can see that it unnerved him to think about, so you decide not to poke further into it and instead just quietly wrap one hand around his middle (You can’t do it around his shoulders because they’re way too broad for your poor arm to reach around, so the middle it is) while leaning a little closer. Mettaton just responds by placing his hand over the one that was now placed on his side.

Both of you sit like that until the pizza arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAHHHH ALL OF YOUR PRECIOUS COMMENTS ARE BEAUTIFUL AND FILLS ME WITH MOTIVATION!!! THANK YOU DARLINGS!!!! <3
> 
> (also, just for a sidenote. There's probably not going to be smut in this fic, just cuz there's already a whole bunch of them and I honestly want to focus on the fluff instead >>)


	24. Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you try and do some science while Mettaton isn't paying attention.

It’s a lot easier to try and be non-suspicious and doing magic-related science, when you have the nice excuse that you have to get the pizza. When Mettaton then nicely doesn’t notice the whole not-touching-you anymore business.

The moment you step away, there luckily isn’t any pain. It’s more like a dull ache settling in slowly, not pleasant, but something you can learn to live with. Well in either case, you’re more than happy to find any sort of alternative to the knives-stabbing-you-in-the-eye pain that you experienced before. Maybe it has something to do with your close-contact to the superstar. Like a battery, you would stock up on magic and if it didn’t work, if you got too much of it and then suddenly cut it off (like in the bed) then it would backlash.

Wait, did you just compare yourself to a battery?

Yeah, you did.

Well, better than a leech or something like that, right? Right.

You really got to stop with the inner monologue thing.

As you trudge over to your door, you remember to keep your mutated eye shut as you remember that yes, pink irises and black where there should be white was actually not a good thing. You don’t know what the sodding replacements of proper pizza cost, but you just smile at the young lad carrying them and hand him a fifty, totally not caring about your budget. You instead, felt more compelled to continue your inner discussion (ok they might be practical when you don’t want people to think that you’re ballshit crazy) whether or not you should try and share this discovery with the easily-agitated machine.

Welp, you don’t get much of a choice, since as soon as you dump the boxed pizza’s in the kitchen, a (very) long pair of arms wrap around your middle and you’re literally _pulled_ back to the couch. As you land in Mettatons lap, you manage to get out a short “Mettaton wha-“ before you’re embarrassingly squeezed tight against his chest, his head burying itself in your hair.

“Sweetheart please don’t do that ever again!” the speech comes out from the speakers positioned behind you, not the ones busy nuzzling up your (already horrible) bedhead. “I know how much that must’ve hurt, and I first managed to realize it when you stood in front of the door. What a horrible friend I must be!”

Ok, maybe you’re regretting doing science, just a lil’ bit.

Well it’s hard not to, when a multitalented superstar is really frightened about the possibility of you getting hurt and has practically become one of your closest friends within days. Wow, it really hadn’t been much longer than that. Surprise.

It takes a few minutes for your to calm down your friend. By then you’d had to assure him that you hadn’t been in much pain (you hadn’t, not as much as earlier anyway), that you wouldn’t do it again without him knowing (questionable, but not a promise) and that you wouldn’t let go of him for the whole of today. The last one is especially a problem, since you had to call in sick to your boss. He was luckily very understanding, since he knew that you’d taken quite a hit last night and he didn’t mind taking you out of commission just for a single day.

So now you had a full day filled with no plans, and a huge emotional robot bugging the living daylights out of you. Lovely.

Whoever might be watching you from above, would you very much like to have a word with, as to why you had landed yourself in this situation. While others might consider it extreme luck, you found it to honestly, be kind of a big pain in the ass. Well that’s just your general impression of it anyway.

Oh, maybe you could make Mettaton go to work or something for a few hours, so that you could test your theory. Now, how to do that.

Well a direct approach was usually your strong point. “Hey, Mettaton.”

His head hasn’t moved from your tousled hair, so the reply is spoken through his chest, giving you the heebijeebies. “Yes Darling?”

“Don’t you have work today?” there, no dancing around the topic, no awkward excuses. It has to work.

“No.” and it doesn’t. Dang it.

“How come, don’t you usually have like four or five TV-shows up and running at the same time?”

“My presence is not necessary. Most, I’ve already recorded about a year’s worth of episodes, just in case I need a break. So no Sweetheart, you’re not going to be left alone tonight.” Well, so much for any science to get done. But you supposed that you always had time for that later, right now, you needed to calm down the agitated star.

“Pft, don’t worry about it Mettaton. Didn’t plan on it.” you try to reach up, hesitantly letting your fingers brush through his own set of locks, once again reveling in how soft his synthesized hair is. And once again, you catch yourself thinking the exact wrong things, especially in intimate situations such as these.

But then you recall that the pizza on your kitchencounter is undoubtedly cold by now, making your episodes regards pizza go full circle. It wouldn’t be so bad, if your empty stomach wasn’t also complaining.

“I need to eat…” you mumble more to yourself than your companion, but of course his super hearing catches up on it. Before you know it, the boxes are planted right in front of you (a curtesy from Mettatons extremely long arms) and you dig in before thinking. Only to be met with jalapenos, your worst enemy, hidden in the crust.

Oh. It’s. Fucking. On.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No long-winding note from me today cuz I have work all week and it's already way too late and I need to get up early andlookthisnoteisalreadylonggdi. LOVE YOU DARLINGS, SEE YOU TOMORROW!!


	25. Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations and pizza doesn't go well together.

If somebody asked you what hell feels like, this would be pretty dang close. You spit and hack at the unpleasant burning sensation, and in the middle of your suffering, you can hear the distinct laughter of the superstar. The asshole.

You try and smack him, all while your tongue is on fire and you feel like you might actually throw up. Though you stubbornly fight down the nausea, it’s still uncomfortable and you throw the piece away from you like it was poisonous. Ignoring how it smattered on top of your coffetable, undoubtedly making an enormous mess. Your eyes were watering over and you desperately just wanted the taste of pure agony off of your tongue.

You sputter. “You asshole, was that prank really necessary?” To which Mettaton just continues laughing, wrapping his arms around your middle in a hug. You squirm and struggle, feeling slightly betrayed. Like how did he even know that you despise jalapenos? Maybe it was just a lucky guess from his side.

Either way you’re in agony.

It takes you a nice twenty minutes and several glasses of milk before you manage to remove the last bits of pain lingering on your tongue. You shoot a sour look at the superstar, despite his assistance in retrieving the milk, he is still the guilty part in this situation.

You had no idea that he actually liked pranks. What a way to find it out.

Scoffing, you rest your head back against his chest, still placed within his grip. Though your obvious pouting didn’t help with whatever Mettaton found so humorous in this situation, as he’s still slightly giggling while you munch on the non-poisonous-pizza-that-you-made-sure-to-check and finally manage to sate your hunger.

After his laughter finally dies down, you manage to coax him into releasing you long enough to let you take a shower. It takes a whole lot of conviction on your behalf, demonstrating that the pain doesn’t make you unable to move anymore. However, you still have to promise him that you’ll hurry, plus, he can wait for you just outside of the bathroom in case something happens.

It’s a bit unnerving to be entirely honest. Mettaton is being seriously protective of you. Like it’s almost a tad extreme, how much he worries about you, while you’ve only known each other for a short while. You turn these thoughts in your head while you’re standing under the shower, shouting out to assure Mettaton every few minutes that, yes, you were still alright and yes, he doesn’t need to come in and check up on you.

Really. It was almost like having a brother or something… not as if you’ve ever had one. And you doubted that you would have some seriously suggestive

When you finally emerge, wet hair and everything, Mettaton just takes your hand and guides you to the couch again. You really need to convince him to go at some point, while the company was nice (even with the fucking painful not-funny prank) you also had rent and other things to pay for, and there was actually a dancing gig planned for you a few days from now on and you really needed to practice for that.

“Met?” you felt like nicknames didn’t really matter much to the superstar, though it was a little embarrassing still.

“Yeah?” this time, he doesn’t speak from the speakers on his chest, instead, his voice is unmistakably breathing right by your ear. Once again, heebie-jeebies, just a different kind.

“Is teasing me like a sport to you?”

He actually seems to think this one over, maybe he will reply with an earnest answer.

“Maybe~” yeah ok, fuck earnest. Just go straight into ‘I don’t give a fuck’ territory.

You pout a little more, expressing your thoughts about his reply by displaying a clear mask of grumpiness. He then proceeds to laugh a little, squeezing your middle in an attempt at winning your forgiveness with hugs. Well, since you usually truly aren’t a big fan of general displays of intimacy such as hugs tended to be, Mettaton could kiss that plan goodbye.

Meh. Ok, maybe the puppy eyes helped ease his case a little. But just enough for you to drop your glare, honestly, he already knew way too much about how to push all of your buttons.

Well, while he’s still chipper, maybe you should propose an alternative to staying glued together for an unknown amount of time. When you mention it again, Mettaton atleast isn’t freaking out like earlier, he actually seems to think it over a little before answering.

“But Sweetheart, I’m still not happy if you’re going to be in pain while I’m at work. Especially since I’m the one who caused this whole situation to form.”

You nod, you’ve been thinking a little about alternatives. “Maybe we should test it out, like I’ll go to work one night and if it hurts too much I’ll call you and just tell my boss that I’m still not ok. Does that sound ok?” with that last bit you look up to meet his eyes, which demands a little more flexibility of your neck than you are used to. But you need to see his reaction to your proposition.

He’s seemingly thinking it over very seriously. Biting into his lip (oh god), his attention is focused elsewhere as he considers your idea.

Finally, he looks down at you, meeting your eyes with a hesitant smile on his lips.

“Alright Darling, if you absolutely need to.”

Heck yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so sorry darlings that I haven't been posting these past two days. I've been working a lot and it just saps my energy (;w;)   
> luckily, I'm done tomorrow, so I have about a day and a half before I have to start school again where I can write! so look forward to that my lovelies! <3


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